it blowed
the missus through the doorway, an' it blowed the cook--(as was on the
landin' outside)--right down the kitchen stairs, it did;--but there was
none of 'em much hurt, sir, they wasn't, beyond a bruise or two!"

After examining this house, Flaxmore proposed that I should go and see
his engine. He was proud of his engine, evidently, and spoke of it as a
man might speak of his wife!

On our way to the station the driver of a passing 'bus called out--

"Fireman, there's a fire in New Bond Street."

One word Flaxmore exchanged with the driver, and then, turning to me,
said, "Come on, sir, I'll give you a ride!"

Off we went at a run, and burst into the station. "Get her out, Jim,"
cried Flaxmore, (_her_ being the engine). Jim, the man on duty, put on
his helmet without saying a word, and hauled out the fire-engine, while
a comrade ran for the horses, and another called up the men. In five
minutes more I was seated beside seven men in blue uniforms and brass
helmets, dashing through the streets of London at full gallop!

Now, those who have never seen a London fire-engine go to a fire have no
conception of what it is--much less have they any conception of what it
is to ride on the engine! To those accustomed to it, no doubt, it may
be tame enough--I cannot tell; but to those who mount an engine for the
first time and dash through the crowded thoroughfares at a wild tearing
gallop; it is probably the most exciting drive conceivable. It beats
steeplechasing! It feels like driving to destruction--so desperate and
reckless is it. And yet, it is not reckless in the strict sense of that
word; for there is a stern need-be in the case. Every moment, (not to
mention minutes or hours), is of the utmost importance in the progress
of a fire, for when it gets the mastery and bursts into flames it
flashes to its work, and completes it quickly. At such times one moment
wasted may involve the loss of thousands of pounds, ay, and of human
lives also. This is well-known to those whose profession it is to fight
the flames. Hence the union of apparent mad desperation, with cool,
quiet self-possession in their proceedings. When firemen can work in
silence they do so. No unnecessary word is uttered, no voice is
needlessly raised; but, when occasion requires it, their course is a
tumultuous rush, amid a storm of shouting and gesticulation!

So was it on the present occasion. Had the fire been distant, they
would have