f you! Twins have to be born the same
day, now truly, or they can't _be_ twins!"

There was wisdom in Ada's voice, and wisdom in her superior smile.
Flaxie raised her eyes, but that smile was too much for her, and she
dropped them again. If there was one thing Flaxie could not bear, it was
to be laughed at by a girl of her own age, who knew more than she did.

At that moment the school-bell rang, and, oh dear, those biscuits were
not half done! So very queer, too, for the stove-pipe was red-hot, and
roaring away beautifully!

The three little cooks were the last to enter the schoolhouse, and Miss
Pike wondered what they were whispering about in the entry.

"Dear little creatures," thought she, petting their heads, "I'm glad
they've had a good time, for they deserve it!"

She called a class, and everything went on as usual, till suddenly she
thought she smelt smoke, and went to the window to look out.

Miss Pike was a most sensible young lady, and knew better than to
scream; but I assure you she never felt more like screaming in her life.
The "house that Jack built" was all ablaze from top to bottom, and had
already set fire to the schoolhouse!

She had to think fast. There were sixty children to be got out, and no
time to lose. If they should know the house was on fire they would be
crazed with fright and run hither and thither like wild creatures; it
would never do to let them know it.

Miss Sarah was at the farther end of the room setting copies slowly,
very slowly. She did not look up, and Miss Pike had no time to go and
speak to her; the only thing she could do was to walk quietly up to the
desk and ring the bell. That meant, "Put up your books." A strange order
while a class was reciting; but it was obeyed instantly.

"Star-spangled Banner," said Miss Pike, calmly. She could see the little
tongues of flame running along the ceiling now, but she looked as if she
was thinking of nothing but music and waiting for Miss Sarah to pitch
the tune. Miss Sarah dropped her pen and did it of course, wondering
why; and all the sixty voices joined in it, clear and loud, as they had
often done before; while in time to the music the whole sixty children
marched in orderly file out of the room.

"_Now, run!_" cried Miss Pike, the moment the last child was in the
entry, "run and tell everybody the schoolhouse is on fire!"

She had a pail of water in her hand. The children rushed through the
streets screaming; the bells b