loured fires, when, horror, dismay, confusion! half a dozen
firemen, with their hateful badges upon their arms, made their
appearance in the orchestra, and the long leathern tube being adjusted,
the brazen spout began playing upon us and the Catherine-wheel, amidst
the laughter of the men, in which even we participated, whilst we heard
the clank, clank, clank, of the infernal machine working in the
play-ground. Mr Root was not simple enough to permit his house to be
burned down with impunity; and, since he found he could do no better, he
resolved to throw cold water upon our proceedings.

The school-room door was now thrown open, to permit us to go out if we
pleased, but we chose to remain where we were, for the simple reason,
that we did not know whom we might meet on the stairs. We had agreed,
under the directions of Saint Albans, to let off our fireworks with some
order; but now, instead of playthings for amusement, they were turned
into engines of offence. Showers of squibs, crackers, and every species
of combustible were hurled at our opponents above us. It was the
struggle of fire with water: but that cold and powerful stream played
continuously; wherever it met us it took away our breath, and forced us
to the ground, yet we bore up gallantly, and the rockets that we
directed into the orchestra very often drove our enemies back, and would
have severely injured the organ, had they not covered it with blankets.

We advanced our desks near the gallery, to use them as scaling-ladders
to storm; but it would not do, they were not sufficiently high, and the
stream dashed the strongest of us back. However, we plied our fiery
missiles as long as they lasted; but the water never failed--its
antagonist element did too soon. Whilst it lasted, considering there
was no slaughter, it was a very glorious onslaught.

In one short half-hour we were reduced. Drowned, burnt, blackened--
looking very foolish, and fearing very considerably, we now approached
the door: it was still open--no attempt to capture anyone--no opposition
was offered to us; but the worst of it was, we were obliged to sneak
through files of deriding neighbours and servants, and we each crept to
bed, like a dog that had stolen a pudding, anything but satisfied with
our exploits, or the termination of them.

Saint Albans would not forgive himself. He heaped immeasurable shame
upon his own head, because he had not secured the orchestra. He
declared he h