of the child who lay before him, a woman rushed in and cried in a wild tone, "Where's the man that killed my child?" Upon this, with a cry wilder than that to which the poor woman had given vent, Dick Hart wrested himself free from the men, whose hands (in their grief at what had occurred) were only lightly laid upon him, and rushed out of the room like a madman. The men followed him, but he was too quick for them, and before they could lay hands on him again, he had jumped from the platform on to the line, dashing aside the persons who tried to stop him. His mad idea was to run forward on the line until he saw a train coming, and then to throw himself before it and be crushed to pieces. But he was saved from the execution of this piteous design; the men reached him and seized him, and carried him back by main force. When he was in the room again, his passion being spent, he fell upon his knees, and looked round with a scared white face, waiting for what was to come. "Poor Dick!' murmured Jim Podmore. And then the men whispered to each other how Dick Hart had been worked off his legs lately; how the accident was nothing more than was to be expected. These figures, himself and his wife and child, vanished as suddenly and as strangely as they had appeared, and he found himself on the platform on which his duties were performed. A bewildering sound was in his ears. A thousand engines were screaming furiously, a thousand voices were shouting despairingly, a thousand terrible fears were making themselves heard. The air was filled with clamour and confusion, and starting forward with a wildly beating heart, he awoke. He had been dreaming. But there was cause for these, his later fancies. The faithful dog Snap was tearing at the door, through the crevices of which Jim saw smoke stealing. He looked towards the bed: Polly and her mother were fast asleep. He ran to the door, and opened it, and a blaze of flame rushed on to him, and almost blinded him. The house was on fire! Jim Podmore's first feeling after the shock of the discovery was one of deep-felt gratitude, and a muttered “Thank the Lord!" escaped his lips as he saw his wife and child lying asleep in bed. When he started to his feet in a half-conscious state, with the clamour and the roar in his ears, his fear was that there had been an accident on the line, and that Polly and her mother had been hurt; and he was inexpressibly relieved to find that he had been dreaming. So deep and strong was his feeling of relief that he did not instantly realise the real danger which threatened him and those dear to him. It came upon him presently in its full force, and he recognised that a moment's delay might prove fatal. The first thing to find out was the extent of the danger. He had shut the door directly the fire met his gaze. Now he opened it, and ran down a few steps, on which the fire had not yet seized. He was beaten back by the flames. He fancied he heard cries from the lower part of the house, but he could see nothing for the smoke. There was no escape that way. Snap ran hither and thither in the wildest agitation, barking at the flames to keep them down. As, Jim Podmore threw open the window in despair, to see what means of escape that outlet afforded, he saw the forms of persons hurrying to the street, and heard the cries they uttered. Those below could not distinguish his face, for he had closed the door again, and, impelled by some strange process of reasoning, had locked it to keep out the flames. They saw, however, that some one was standing at the window, and they called out to him, but he was too agitated to understand what they said. The front of the house presented a flat surface of brick, and there seemed to be nothing between him and death-not a foothold, nor anything to cling to. The whole of this action had taken place in scarcely more than two or three moments, and within that time Snap had leaped upon the bed, and had aroused Pollypod and her mother. Had they been alone, it is probable that they would have slept on unconscious of their danger, for the smoke, stealing through the crevices of the door, had already somewhat stupefied them, and whatever subtle influence that and the dull roar of voices without might have had upon their dreams, they would not have aroused them to consciousness. Mrs. Podmore, with a scream, jumped out of bed, and looked wildly around; at the same moment she snatched Polly from the bed, and held the child close to shield her from danger. 66 Keep cool, old woman," said Jim Podmore; "the house is on fire;" and muttered inly, “I knew that presentiment would come true-didn't I tell Old Wheels so?" Mrs. Podmore was now standing at the window by Jim's side, with Polly in her arms. Their white night-dresses shone in the midst of the dark surface of brick, and voices reached them, rashly advising them to jump down. But they were on the third floor, and although Jim saw friendly arms held out below, he held his wife tight, lest in her fear she should obey the entreaties of their neighbours. "There's time enough for that, old woman," he muttered, with thick breath; "perhaps the fire escape 'll come. It'd be almost certain death to take the leap." Time was too precious to waste in mere words, and he released her from his embrace. She turned to the door, but he cried out to her not to open it, and that their only chance lay in doing their best to keep out the flames. "There's only one way out for us, old woman; and that's by the window. Put Polly down, and give me a hand here. Quick! Don't be frightened, my darling!" He was tying the bedclothes together, to form a rope by which they might escape through the window, and Mrs. Podmore flew to help him. The door began to crack, and the room to fill with smoke; little jets of flame appeared. "God help us!" cried Mrs. Podmore. "We shall be burnt to death!" Jim said nothing to this, but all the bedclothes being used, he hurriedly fixed the mattress against the door, to gain another moment; then tied one end of the rope firmly to the foot of the bedstead, and threw the other end out of the window. It reached a little below the second-floor window. As he leaned forward to see how long it was, a ladder was fixed against the wall of the house, and a man, cheered on by the crowd, ran up to the room where Old Wheels slept. "There's the old man getting out," said Jim, in a suppressed tone; the father, mother, and child were now together at the window; "and the man's jumped into the room. Don't look behind you, mother! Thank God, there's the fire-engine!" It came tearing up the narrow street, and brave men were at work almost in an instant. "The man's out on the ladder, mother, with Lily in his arms. Hurrah!" Jim lost sight of his own danger for a moment. "It'll be our turn presently. The Gribbles are getting down now. They've found a rope!" Indeed, in less time than it takes to describe, all these, happily, were safely rescued, and only Jim Podmore and his wife and child remained in the burning house. The flames were in the room, and the fire-escape had not arrived. A moment's delay now would be fatal. to catch us, and there are others below them, holding them up. You'll have to drop into their arms when you get to the end. Quick, mother! Now!" "I can't, Jim," gasped the fainting woman; "I can't. Never mind me. Save Polly!" Without another word, Jim Podmore, with Polly in his arms, swung out upon the rope. Happily it held and bore the strain. Those below watched him with agonised looks, and the roar suddenly became hushed. "Drop the child!" cried a voice. It came from one of the men on the ladder, and sounded clear and distinct, as from a silver trumpet. "Don't be frightened, Pollypod! It's me-Felix!" 66 Felix, Felix!" screamed Pollypod, and as she cried, fell through the air into his arms. The cheers and the roar of delight that came from the crowd were frozen as it were in the throats of the excited throng as Jim, assuring himself by a hasty glance that his child was safe, began to ascend the rope for his wife. He was not a moment too soon. She was so overpowered with fright that he had to drag her through the window. 66 Keep your senses about you," he cried, "for God's sake, old woman! Polly's safe! Hold me tight-don't loose your hold! For Polly's sake, now-for Polly's sake, mother!" She clung to him so tightly as almost to press the breath out of his body; it was fortunate for them that another ladder was raised, and that other friendly arms were held out to break their fall. The moment they were safe, the attention of the crowd was diverted to the form of a dog, who was standing and barking on the window - sill above. It was Snap, who had been left behind. The dog was in great distress, for the flames were darting towards him, and he could scarcely keep his foothold. But Jim Podmore saw the peril of his faithful servant, and having hurriedly ascertained that his wife and Pollypod were unhurt, he ran up the ladder and called out to Snap to jump. The dog had but one alternative-to be burnt; so he risked his limbs, and jumped clean "I don't know, Jim," replied the trembling on the shoulders of his master, whence he rolled safely into the crowd, who cheered merrily at the episode. "Do you think you could hold fast to the rope," asked Jim of his wife, with a tightening grasp on the knots, "and slide down? There's no other chance left." woman. "See-there are two men climbing the ladder W AULD ROBIN GRAY. [BY LADY ANNE Barnard.] HEN the sheep are in the fauld and the And a' the world to sleep are gane, Young Jamie loo'd me weel, and socht me for his But saving a croun, he had naething else beside: He hadna been awa a week but only twa, When my mother she fell sick, and the cow was stown awa; My father argued sair, my mother didna speak, But she lookit in my face, till my heart was like to break : My father brak his arm, and young Jamie at the Sae they gied him my hand, though my heart was My father couldna work and my mother couldna I hadna been a wife a week but only four spin ; When mournfu' as I sat on the stane at the door, I toiled day and nicht, for their bread I couldna I saw my Jamie's wraith, for I could not think it he, win; Auld Rob maintained them baith, and wi' tears in his ee, Said, "Jennie, for their sakes, oh! marry me." My heart it said nay-for I looked for Jamie back, But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a wrack: The ship it was a wrack-why didna Jamie dee? Or why do I live to say, "Wae's me?" Till he said, "I'm come hame to marry thee." I gang like a ghaist and I carena to spin; I daurna think on Jamie, for that wad be a sin; |