The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903, 1902-01-04
a niobt With the (.
fire 1aooies

panions is one of thrills of various
kinds. The snoring makes one of them
all by itself: the sight in the half light
of the great gong whose changing may
on an instant set the snoring human
ity into jumping activity is another
and the occasional paving of the rest
less dumb brutes below is another.
One experiences these thrills because
he cannot help lying awake If it is his
first night in the sleeping room of the
house No. ], at Tenth and Q streets,
he is appointed little iron bed built
for one and il is not the fault of the
bed that he does not sleep. Most of
the firemen retire early and the late
Corners steal to their touches with the
silence of mice. A gas light with the
shade inverted so that the reflection
is cast upon the ceiling at one side
of the room affords semi-gloom that
dimly disclOses the outstretched forms
of the sleeping men on the score of
beds in the room. There must be some
light all the time for there is no telling
when an alarm may come in and the
men will have to leap for their clothes,
and still there must not be so much as
to interfere with sleep.
At the side of each bed stands the
jumpers of the men; rubber boots they
are. with thick trousers folded down
below their tops so that when the bell
rings all the fireman has to do is to
take lusty jump land in his boots,
pull the trousers up about his neither
portions and clasp himself within. a
trick done almost as quickly as
thought about. With lining of fleece
these garments are warm enough for
any man, yet the firemen seldom deign
to remove their underclothes for the
night, even in the hottest weather.
The hours drag along. Down in the
railroad yards the busy engines whis-
tie and ring and the noise, it seems,
will never cease. The FESTIVE guest
turns frequently; figures on a problem
to measure the snoring power of men
and what royalties he might win could
he but patent such a machine: specu-
lates on the name of the man he thinks
is snoring most recklessly; wonders at
his lung power and calculates idly on
his possibilities as a hero in case an
alarm comes in the next minute that
may mean destruction and danger to
~
stamps impatiently below and the teIe-
phone bell rings. All, there is a fire
surely. Now for the bell and some
suddenly ruptured dreams. A min
ute, two minutes and no alarm. The
guest raises himself on his arms and
looks over to the hazy brass gong
closely hanging to the wall, soundless
utterly. Somebody across the room
utters a most astounding snore. Won
der If he is dreaming of the LindeII
hotel in flames and himself on the
cornice hedged in by fire and with
death imminent. Another beastIy
snore followed with a sort of groan.
Perhaps he thinks he is sliding down
a stream of water, as a last resort.
The guest looks about the room over
the ghostly white rectangular figures
of the beds with the dark heads of the
sleepers pillowed at one end.
Surely in a minute that gong will
ring. Why doesn't something happeno
The guest is becoming drowsy and he
pictures his actions vaguely in case an
alarm should sound. Conscious as he
is would he be likely to be the first to
the wagons? Certainly that would be
a triumDh for Of many tbipo-s n f-a