nd? John Temple, who went out a few hours ago brave and
strong, in the full vigor of beautiful manhood, blighted, disfigured,
burned in the fiery furnace?

"My child, my child," had a frantic woman screamed as she was borne down
a ladder in the powerful arms of a fireman.

"My child," she still cried from the ground, her eyes upraised to the
window of flame, her hands clasped in pleading agony. Eager eyes looked
upward, but even brave hearts hesitated to rush into the sea of flame.

It was madness, but John Temple ventured. They would have held him back,
but in that supreme moment of supernatural exaltation of courage he was
strong as well as bold. As he would others should do for him so would he
do for them. It was the thought of his wife and children that nerved him
to such heroic, desperate effort, and alas, so unavailing!

Streams of water had darkened the fiery mass, and hope began to whisper
to the eager crowd.

Yes, John Temple stepped out upon the slippery, blackened ladder,
grasping the inanimate form of a little child. Loud cheers rent the air.
But they pierced the hearts of those who bent over the senseless forms
of the deliverer and the child. Most of their clothing, their hair, and
eyebrows were burned, they were fearfully scarred, and worse than all
they had breathed the flames! Physicians were on the ground, prompt
assistance was rendered, and John Temple again drew breath. With the
child there was a moan, a gasp, and all was over.

This was the result of a kerosene explosion. So instant had been the
ignition of everything combustible that nearly the whole interior was in
flames before assistance could arrive. Stout engines played but upon
useless debris, and saved only unsightly walls.

Some friend of John Temple had run for the priest, and by the time he
was laid in his own house Father Duffy too had arrived. The sufferer had
become sensible, but could not speak. He was evidently in fearful agony.

Three physicians looked at each other and shook their heads. They had
the wife to care for now, who, with piercing shrieks, fell insensible at
their feet.

"Will you leave me alone with him a moment," said the priest, and the
others withdrew, bearing away the stricken woman.

It was but for a few moments indeed. The dying man could only make
signals in answer to questions, and received the _Viaticum_ with eyes
raised in thankfulness. The physicians had not been able to get him to
swallow, but this