, as he paused for a few moments to get
breath, and watch his father where he stood high up on the burning roof,
like some hero battling with a fiery dragon.

"Yes, I see," said Tom in an ill-used tone.

"Isn't it grand?" cried Dick. "I wish I was up there. Don't it make
one proud of one's father?"

"I don't see any more to be proud of in your father than in mine," said
Tom stoutly. "Your father wouldn't dare to go into that burning house
like mine does. See there!"

This was as Farmer Tallington rushed into the house again.

Dick turned sharply upon his companion.

"There isn't time to have it out now, Tom," he said in a whisper; "but I
mean to punch your head for this, you ungrateful beggar. Afraid to go
into the house! Why, I'm not afraid to do that. Come on!"

He ran into the house and Tom followed, for them both to come out again
bearing the old eight-day clock.

"Its easy, that's what it is," said Dick. "Hooray, father!" he shouted,
"you'll win!"

It did not seem as if the squire would win, for though he was gradually
being successful in extinguishing the burning thatch, the great waves of
fire which came floating from the blazing stacks licked up the moisture
and compelled him from time to time to retreat.

Fortunately, however, the supply of water was ample, and, thanks to the
way in which Hickathrift dipped the buckets and encouraged the men as he
passed them along, the thatch became so saturated that by the time quite
a stack had been made of the indoor valuables there seemed to be a
chance to leave the steaming roof and attack the burning stacks.

This was done, the ladder being left ready in case of the thatch
catching fire again; and soon the squire was standing as close as he
could get to the nearest stack, and sending in the contents of the
buckets.

There was no hope of saving this, but every bucket of water promised to
keep down the great flashes of fire which floated off and licked at the
farm-house roof as they passed slowly on.

It was a glorious sight. Everything glowed in the golden light, and a
fiery snowstorm seemed to be sweeping over the farm buildings, as the
excited people worked, each dash of water producing a cloud of steam
over which roared up, as it were, a discharge of fireworks.

For some time no impression whatever appeared to be made, but no one
thought of leaving his position; the squire and those nearest to him
were black and covered with perspiration, thei