The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1893-12-27

bUOVe, ana the pipe ran through the room
above, turning into the upper hall,
thence into the chimney. Leaving the
two elder children in the lower room
with their playthings, and taking little
Jack with her, Marget retired to her
kitchen labors, moving busily about,
while the child contentedly followed
her.
"She coined in sometimes to see
if me and Amy was good" said my
eldest boy afterward in telling the
story, land we was; and then Jack
fell asleep and Marget carried him up
to the study, COS it was warm, and laid
him on your sofa with big shawl over
him. Then she letted Amy and me
come into the kitchen to help her make
pies. We made pies for long time;
then we smelled smoke and we looked
into the dining-room, but there was MT
nothing there, and pretty soon we
smelled more smoke, ard Marget ran
upstairs and we ran after her, and til ere
were lots of flames all round the study
door and round the bannister. Mar
get told us to run down and out in the
street, but we was frightened and
wouldn't; so she just put her two
catched us up and carried us down and
ruined out with us through the garden
into the street, and left us there while
she ruined back"
A woman with three helpless little
children, in house nearly quarter of
a mile from any other, standing far
back from the road and partly hidden
by trees, the house old, dry and
draughty, the day bitterly cold, the
wind almost gale. A defective hue,
plenty of woodwork for stray sparks to
feed upon and an hour in which to gain
Roadway. Can you picture the situa-
tion7
We had finished our shopping, and
were a mile from the towns center on
our homeward way, burdened with par
GELS aud chatting cheelily of the new
year and its prospects. Passing few
acres of fragrant cedar bush, we came
out upon the cleared road way, and
looked across the fields to where our
home stood like a great white temple
in Its snowy grounds. Even as our
glance rested lightly upon it dark
cloudy mass rose about its roof and
rolled skyward in waving, curling COL
umns, to be succeeded by others,
blacker and more dense. A solid grip
caught my heart, and for one instant its
beating was siilled; then a great thrOb
sent the blood surging through nv
body, and with one brief look in the
terror-stricken face beside me, l tore
down the road, hearing quick, painting
breath, as my " life struggled on behind
me. 1t seemed an hour before |
reached the little garden gate, though
it was probably barely five minutes. A
crowd had gathered; there was confu-
sion and shouting, and through the
keen air came the distant sound of the
town alarm bell. | remembered it all
afterward, but then 1 heard nothing
save the ominous crackle of burning
wood, the roar of wind and flame; saw
nothing save two little figures running
toward me with outstretched arms,
shivering with cold and excitement
Jack-Margel?" 1 questioned, al
most fiercely.
Jacks asleep, and Marget ruined
back for him." they cried.
pushed them aside and ran up the
path, my ears filled with the flames
roaring, all other life suspended in me,
save that which bound me to my pretty
curly-haired baby. l flung myself
through the small crowd who stood
helplessly looking on, and rushed into
the lower hall, crying: "Jack, Jackw
The staircase was mass of flame.
Some one touched me with firm re-
straint.
"Come round to the south, pastor;
the fire amt got there yet, and we've
sent for ladder"
The fire had reached it even as he
spoke. The flames, like fiery tongues,
were licking the lower window case
ment, while within the room burned
the deadly glow. At the upper window
stood Marget. Her face was pa,e, and
the yellow light behind her gave it
peculiar CLEAN. One arm hung loosely
by her side and the other held our little
boy, still sleeping, or else in a stupor.
She spoke, but the roar of wind and
fame prevented US hearing her words.
The awful glow in the background
grew brighter. 'Marget, Marget." 1t
was my wife's voice, as she threw up
those mother arms in wild appeal.
Marget heard, and strange little
smile answered the cry. Half turning
from the window, she laid the child
against her breast, aud disengaging her
arms, threw down my great Scotch
plaid, as soft and thick as any blanket.
Then, with glance at the flames so
close about her, and with a marvellous
inspiration of muscular strength, she
held out the sleeping child. In an in
slant the men about me interpreted her
movement and the soft, thick plaid was
held by firm hands. Leaning out as
far as she dared, with steady, IRON
nerved hand she threw the fat little
fellow into the very center of the
blanket that slipped from the mems
grasp upon the soft snow. A cheer
broke from the crowd as my wife sank
on her knees beside her child. Marget
heard the cheer and smiled again. The
flames were very near her; now their
scorching breath played about her
cheek and lifted the tresses of her hair.
"That ladder will come too late,"
groaned some one beside me.
A crash of the falling wall sent the
crowd backward, and with shower of
sparks the fire shot forward for its prey.
AZ.