little while, one of them appeared at an upper window, having in his hands a large looking-glass, with an elaborately carved frame. Without stop

PHAETON AS FIREMAN.

ping to open the window, he dashed the mirror through sash, glass, and all, and as it struck the ground it was shivered into a thousand fragments.

Then another man appeared at the window with an armful of small framed pictures, and, taking them one at a time by the corner, "scaled " them out into the air.

Then the first man appeared again, dragging a mattress. Resting this on the window-sill, he tied a rope around it, and let it down slowly and carefully to the ground.

The second man appeared again, in turn; this time with a handsome china wash-bowl and pitcher, which he sent out as if they had been shot from a cannon. In falling, they just escaped smashing the head of a spectator. Bearing in mind, I suppose, the great mercantile principle that a "set" of articles should always be kept together, he hurriedly threw after them such others as he found on the wash-stand,-the cake of soap striking the chief-engineer in the neck, while the tall, heavy slop-jar-hurled last of all to complete the setturned some beautiful somersaults, emptying its contents on Lukey Finnerty, and landed in the midst of a table full of crockery, which had been brought out from the dining-room.

Next appeared, at another upper window, two men carrying a bureau that proved to be too large to go through. With that promptness which is so necessary in great emergencies, one of the men instantly picked up his ax, and, with two or three blows, cut the bureau in two in the middle, after which both halves were quickly bundled through the window and fell to the ground.

The next thing they saved was a small, open book-case filled with handsomely bound books. They brought it to the window, with all the books upon it, rested one end on the sill, and then, tripping up its heels, started it on the hyperbolic curve made and provided for projectiles of its class. If the Commissioner of Patents could have seen it careering through the air, he would have rejected all future applications for a monopoly in revolving book-cases. When it reached the ground, there was a general diffusion of good literature.

They finally discovered, in some forgotten closet, a large number of dusty hats and bonnets of a by-gone day, and came down the stairs carefully bringing a dozen or two of them. Close behind them followed the other men, one having his arms full of pillows and bolsters, while the other carried three lengths of old stove-pipe.

"We saved what we could," said one, with an evident consciousness of having done his duty.

"Yes," said another, "and it's too hot to go back there, though there's lots of furniture that has n't been touched yet."

Meanwhile, the Hook-and-Ladder company had fastened one of their great hooks in the edge of the roof, and were hauling away, with a "Yo, heave, ho!" to pull off the side of the house. They had only got it fairly started, separated from the rest of the frame by a crack of not more than five or six inches, when the chief-engineer came up and

ordered them to desist, as he expected to be able to extinguish the fire.

And now the engines were in full play. A little trap-door in the top of Cataract Eight's box was open, and the assistant foreman of Red Rover Three was holding in it the nozzle of Three's hose, which discharged a terrific stream.

The same was true of Big Six and Rough-andReady Seven.

I never heard a more eloquent orator than the foreman of Cataract Eight, as he stood on the box of his engine, pounded with his trumpet on the air-chamber, and exhorted the men to "down with the brakes"; "shake her up lively"; "rattle the irons"; "don't be washed," etc., all of which expressions seemed to have one meaning, and the brakes came down upon the edges of the box like the blows of a trip-hammer, making the engine dance about as if it were made of pasteboard.

The foreman of Red Rover Three was also excited, and things in that quarter were equally lively.

For a considerable time it was an even contest. Eight's box was kept almost full of water, and no more; while it seemed as if both companies had attained the utmost rapidity of stroke that flesh and bones were capable of, or wood and iron could endure.

But at last four fresh men, belonging to Red Rover Three, who had been on some detached service, came up, leaped upon the box, and each putting a foot upon the brakes, added a few pounds to their momentum.

The water rose rapidly in Eight's box, and in about a minute completely overflowed it, drenching the legs of her men, and making everything disagreeable in the vicinity.

A shout went up from the by-standers, and Three's men instantly stopped work, took off their hats, and gave three tremendous cheers.

We had washed her.

Big Six was trying to do the same thing by Rough-and-Ready Seven, and had almost succeeded, when the hose burst. Phaeton and I were standing within a step of the spot where it gave way, and we ourselves were washed.

"Let's go home," said he, as he surrendered his ax and fire-hat to a Hook-and-Ladder man. "Yes," said I, "it's time. They 've poured water enough into that house to float the Ark, and all the best of the fire is over."

As we left the scene of our labors, I observed that my Sunday coat, besides being drenched, was split open across the back.

"Phaeton," said I, calling his attention to the rent, "you forgot to throw off my coat when you went to work with the ax, did n't you?"

IT was not yet morning, and my rope-ladder was still hanging out when Phaeton and I reached the house. We climbed up, and as soon as he could tie up his wet clothes in a bundle, he went down again and ran home.

When our family were assembled at the breakfast-table, I had to go through those disagreeable explanations which every boy encounters before he arrives at the age when he can do what he pleases without giving a reason for it. At such a time, it seems to a boy as if those who ought to sympathize with him had set themselves up as determined antagonists, bringing out by questions and comments the most unfavorable phase of everything that has happened, and making him feel that, instead of a misfortune to be pitied, it was a crime to be punished. Looking at it from the boy's side, it is, perhaps, wisest to consider this as a necessary part of man-making discipline; but, from the family's side, it should appear, as it is, a cowardly proceeding.

It was in vain that I strove to interest our family with vivid descriptions of how we jumped Red Rover Three, how we washed Cataract Eight, and how we saved Mr. Glidden's property. I suppose they were deficient in imagination; they could realize nothing but what was before them, visible to the physical eye; their minds continually reverted to the comparatively unimportant question as to how my clothes came to be in so dreadful a condition. As if 't was any fault of mine that Big Six's hose burst, or as if I could have known that it would burst at that particular spot where Phaeton and I were standing.

The only variation from this one-stringed harp was when they labored ingeniously to make it appear that the jumping, the washing, and the saving would all have been done quite as effectually if I had been snug in bed at home.

Phaeton came over to tell me that Ned was missing.

"I don't wonder that we did n't happen to run across him in that big crowd," said he; "but I should n't think he 'd stay so long as this. Do you think anything can have happened to him?" "What could happen?" said I.

"He may have taken an ax, and ventured too

far into some of the burning buildings," said Phaeton.

"No," said I, after a moment's consideration; "that would n't be like Ned. He might be very enthusiastic about taking care of the fire, but he would n't forget to take care of himself. However, I'll go with you to look for him."

As we went up the street, we came upon Patsy Rafferty and Teddy Dwyer, pushing Phaeton's car before them, with Jimmy the Rhymer in it. They were taking him out to see what remained of the fire. Jimmy said he was getting well rapidly, and expected soon to be about again on his own legs. A few rods farther on, we met Ned walking toward home.

"Hello! Where have you been all this time?" said Phaeton.

"Can't you tell by the feathers?" said Ned. "What feathers?"

"Jail-bird feathers. I've been in jail all night." Of course we asked him how that came about, and Ned told us the story of his captivity, which the reader already knows.

"But how did you get out?" said Phaeton, with natural solicitude.

"Why, when 'Squire Moore came to the office and opened the court, I was brought out the first

one.

And when I told him my story, and whose boy I was, he said of course I was; he'd known Father too many years not to be able to tell one of his chickens as soon as it peeped. He advised me not to meddle any more with burglar things, and then told me to go home. 'Squire Moore 's the 'squire for my money! But as for that stupid policeman, I'll sue him for false imprisonment, if Aunt Mercy will let me have the funds to pay a lawyer."

"Aunt Mercy 's pretty liberal with you,” said Phaeton, "but she 'll never give you any such amount as that."

"She is at her aunt's, on West street," said Mr. Glidden.

Phaeton seemed a little disappointed.

"I've brought home her bird," said he. “I carried it out when the house was on fire, and took it up to our house for safety."

"My sister will be very much obliged to you," said John Glidden. "I'll take charge of it."

Phaeton intimated his entire willingness to run over to West street with the bird at once, saying that he knew the house where she was staying, perfectly well; but John said he would n't trouble him to do that, and took the cage, which Phaeton gave up with some appearance of reluctance.

"I don't believe the smell of smoke will be good for that bird," said Phaeton, as we walked away. "Canaries are very tender things. He 'd better have let me carry it right over to his sister."

"Yes," said I, "and relieve her anxiety of mind about it. But I suppose he and his father are thinking of nothing but the house.”

"I don't wonder at that," said Phaeton. "It must be a pretty serious thing to have your house and furniture knocked to pieces in that way. And the water seems to do as much harm as the fire."

"Yes, and the axes more than either," said I. "But it can't be helped. Houses will get on fire once in a while, and then, of course, they must either be put out or torn down."

"I am inclined to think it can be helped," said Phaeton. "I've been struck with an idea this

"It would be just like my luck,” said he, “if there should n't be another good fire in this town for a year."

The lost brother being found, Phaeton said the next thing to be done was to take home the bird he had rescued. I went with him on this errand.

As we approached the house, Phaeton carrying the bird-cage, a scene of desolation met our eyes. Nearly everything it contained had been brought out-of-doors, and had sustained more or less injury. The house itself, with all the windows and doors smashed out, the front burned to charcoal, the side so far wrenched apart from the rest of the frame that it could not be replaced, and the

shall be able to abolish all the engines and ax-men, and put out fires without throwing any water on them."

“That would be a tremendous invention," said "What is it?"

I. "Wait till I get it fully worked out," said he, "and then we 'll talk it over. It needs a picture to explain it."

A day or two afterward, Phaeton asked me to go with him to see Jack-in-the-Box, as he had completed his invention, and wanted to consult Jack about it.

"By the way," said he, as we were walking up the street, "I received something this morning which will interest you."

He took from his pocket, and handed me, a note

written on delicate scented paper and folded up in a triangle. It was addressed to "Dear Mr. Rogers," and signed "V. Glidden." It acknowledged the receipt of the bird, and thanked him handsomely for his "gallantry in rescuing dear little Chrissy from the flames."

"That's beautiful," said I, as I folded it up and handed it back to Phaeton, who read it again before putting it into his pocket. "Yes," said he, "that 's lovely."

"You never were called 'Mr. Rogers' before, were you?" said I. "No," said Phaeton.

"I tell you what 't is, Fay," said I, getting along in life.”

we 're

"Yes," said he; "youth glides by rapidly. It was only a little while ago that we had never run with a machine, never taken an ax at a fire, and -never received a note like this."

"And now," said I, "we-that is, you-have made an invention to abolish all fire departments.' "If it works," said Phaeton.

"I have n't the least doubt that it will," said I, although I had not the remotest idea what it was. Jack, who had just flagged a train, and was rolling up his flag as we arrived, cordially invited us into his box.

"I want to consult you about one more invention," said Phaeton, "if you 're not tired of them." "Never tired of them," said Jack. "I have found something to admire in every one you 've presented, though they were not all exactly practicable. The only way to succeed is to persevere."

"It's very encouraging to hear you say so," said Phaeton. "The thing that I want to consult you about to-day is a method of putting out fires without throwing water upon the houses or chopping them all to pieces."

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"I first build a sort of light canvas tent," he continued, 'somewhat larger than an ordinary house. It has no opening, except that the bottom is entirely open, and there is a long rope fastened to each of the lower corners. Then I have a balloon, to which this tent is fastened in place of a car. The balloon lifts the tent just as far as the ropes-which are fastened to something-will let it go." "That 's plain enough," said Jack.

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Then," ," continued Phaeton, "whenever a fire occurs, the firemen (it needs only a few) take these ropes in their hands and start for the fire, the tent and balloon sailing along over their heads. When they get there, they let it go up till the bottom of the tent is higher than the top of the burning house, and then bring it down right over the house, so as to inclose it, and hold the bottom edge close against the surface of the ground till the fire is smothered."

"I see," said Jack; "the theory is perfect." "I have not forgotten," said Phaeton, “that the