nic. I had been sitting there alone all the afternoon, and it was
almost four o'clock when I saw Amelia Powers, who lives opposite, and
who had been sewing at her window--I had noticed her arm moving back
and forth, disturbing the shadows of the horse-chestnut tree in the
yard--fling open her front door, run out on the piazza, and stand
peering around the corner post, with her neck so stretched that it
looked twice as long as before. Then her sister Candace, who has poor
health and seldom ventures out-of-doors, threw up the front chamber
window and leaned out as far as she was able, and stared with her
hand shading her eyes from the sun. I could just see her head through
an opening in the horse-chestnut branches.

Then I heard another door open, and Mrs. Peter Jones, who lives in
the house next below the Powers', came running out. She ran down the
walk to her front gate and leaned over, all twisted sideways, to see.

Then I heard voices, and there were Adeline Ketchum and her mother
coming down the street, all in a flutter of hurry. Adeline is slender
and nervous; her elbows jerked out, her chin jerked up, and her
skirts switched her thin ankles; Mrs. Ketchum is very stout, and she
walked with a kind of quivering flounce. Her face was blazing, and I
knew her bonnet was on hindside before--I was sure that the sprig of
purple flowers belonged on the front.

When Adeline and her mother reached Mrs. Peter Jones' gate they
stopped, and they all stood there together looking. Then I saw Tommy
Gregg racing along, and I felt positive that his mother had sent him
to see what the matter was. She is a good woman, but the most curious
person in our village. She never seems to have enough affairs of her
own to thoroughly amuse her. I never saw a boy run as fast as Tommy
did--as if his mother's curiosity and his own were a sort of motor
compelling him to his utmost speed. His legs seemed never to come out
of their running crooks, and his shock of hair was fairly stiffened
out behind with the wind.

Then I began to wonder if it were possible there was a fire anywhere.
I ran to my front door and called:

"Tommy! Tommy!" said I, "where is the fire?"

Tommy did not hear me, but all of a sudden the fire-bell began
to ring.

Then I ran across the street to Mrs. Peter Jones' gate, and Amelia
Powers came hurrying out of her yard.

"Where is it? Oh, where is it?" said she, and Candace put her head
out of the window and called out, "W