CHAPTER EIGHT.
A HIDDEN FIRE.
In the afternoon of the following day Willie set off to the City inquest of Mr Thomas Tippet. Having to pass the King Street firestation, he resolved to look in on his brother.
The folding-doors of the engine-house were wide open, and the engineitself, clean and business-like, with its brass-work polished bright,stood ready for instant action. Two of the firemen were conversing atthe open door, while several others could be seen lounging about inside.In one of the former Willie recognised the strong man who had collaredhim on a well-remembered occasion.
"Please, sir," said Willie, going up to him, "is Frank Willders inside?"
"Why, youngster," said Dale, laying his hand on Willie's head, "ain'tyou the boy that pulled our bell for a lark the other night?"
"Yes, sir, I am; but you let me off, you know, so I hope you won't bearme ill-will _now_."
"That depends on how you behave in future," said Dale with a laugh; "butwhat d'you want with Frank Willders?"
"I want to see him. He's my brother."
"Oh, indeed! You'll find him inside."
Willie entered the place with feelings of interest, for his respect forfiremen had increased greatly since he had witnessed their recent doingsat the Beverly Square fire.
He found his brother writing at the little desk that stood in thewindow, while five or six of his comrades were chatting by the fire, anda group in a corner were playing draughts, and spinning yarns of theirold experiences. All assisted in loading the air with tobacco-smoke.
The round cloth caps worn by the men gave them a much more sailor-likeand much less fireman-like appearance than the helmets, which, withtheir respective hatchets, hung on the walls, rendering the apartmentsomewhat like a cavalry guard-room. This change in the head-piece, andthe removal of the hatchet, was the only alteration in their costume inwhat may be styled "times of peace." In other respects they were at alltimes accoutred, and in readiness to commence instant battle with theflames.
"Hallo, Blazes! how are ye?" said Willie, touching his brother on theshoulder.
"That you, Willie?" said Frank, without looking up from his work."Where away now?"
"Come to tell ye there's a _fire_," said Willie, with a serious look.
"Eh? what d'ye mean?" asked Frank, looking at his brother, as if he halfbelieved he was in earnest.
"I mean what I say--a fire here," said Willie, solemnly striking hisbreast with his clenched fist, "here in Heart Street, Buzzum Square,ragin' like fury, and all the ingins o' the fire brigade, includin' thefloat, couldn't put it out, no, nor even so much as squeanch it!"
"Then it's of no use our turning out, I suppose?" said Frank with asmile, as he wiped his pen; "what set it alight, lad?"
"A wax doll with flaxen hair and blue eyes," answered Willie; "them'sthe things as has all along done for me. When I was a boy I falled inlove with a noo wax doll every other day. Not that I ever owned onemyself; I only took a squint at 'em in toy-shop winders, and they alwayshad flaxen hair and blue peepers. Now that I've become a man, I've binan' falled in love with a livin' wax doll, an' she's got flaxen hair an'blue eyes; moreover, she draws."
"Draws--boy! what does she draw--corks?" inquires Frank.
"_No_!" replied Willie, with a look of supreme contempt; "nothin' solow; she draws faces an' pictures like--like--a schoolmaster, and,"added Willie, with a sigh, "she's bin an' drawed all the spirit out o'this here buzzum."
"She must have left a good lot o' combustible matter behind, however, ifthere's such a fire raging in it. Who may this pretty fire-raiser be?"
"Her name is Emma Ward, and she b'longs to a Miss Tippet, to whom she'srelated somehow, but I don't know where she got her, nor who's herparents. This same Miss Tippet is some sort of a relation o' MrAuberly, who sent me to her with a note, and she has sent me withanother note to her brother near London Bridge, who, I s'pose, will sendme with another note to somebody else, so I'm on my way down to see him.I thought I'd look in to ask after you in passin', and cheer you on todooty."
A violent fit of somewhat noisy coughing from one of the men at thefireplace attracted Willie's attention at this point in theconversation.
"Wot a noisy feller you are, Corney," remarked one of the men.
"Faix," retorted Corney, "it's noisy you'd be too av ye had the cowld inyer chist that I have. Sure, if ye had bin out five times in wan nightas I wos on Widsenday last, wid the branch to howld in a smoke as 'udchoke Baxmore hisself (an' it's well known _he_ can stand a'mostanything), not to spake o' the hose bu'stin' right betune me two feet."
"Come, come, Paddy," said Dale, interrupting; "don't try to choke us,now; you know very well that one of the fires was only a cut-awayaffair; two were chimneys, and one was a false alarm."
"True for ye!" cried Corney, who had a tendency to become irascible inargument, or while defending himself; "true for ye, Mister Dale, butthey _was_ alarms for all that, false or thrue, was they not now?Anyhow they alarmed me out o' me bed five times in a night as cowld asthe polar ragions, and the last time was a raale case o' two flats burntout, an' four hours' work in iced wather."
There was a general laugh at this point, followed by several coughs andsneezes, for the men were all more or less afflicted with colds, owingto the severity of the weather and the frequency of the fires that hadoccurred at that time.
"There's some of us can sing chorus to Corney," observed one of thegroup. "I never saw such weather; and it seems to me that the worse theweather the more the fires, as if they got 'em up a purpose to kill us."
"Bill Moxey!" cried another, "you're _always_ givin' out some truismwith a face like Solomon."
"Well, Jack Williams," retorted Moxey, "it's more than I can say of you,for you never say anything worth listenin' to, and you couldn't looklike Solomon if you was to try ever so much.--You're too stoopid forthat."
"I say, lads," cried Frank Willders, "what d'ye say to send along to thedoctor for another bottle o' cough mixture, same as the first?"
This proposal was received with a general laugh.
"He'll not send us more o' _that_ tipple, you may depend," saidWilliams.
"No, not av we wos dyin'," said Corney, with a grin.
"What was it?" asked Williams.
"Didn't you hear about it?" inquired Moxey. "Oh, to be sure not; youwere in hospital after you got run over by the Baker Street engine.Tell him about it, Corney. It was you that asked the doctor, wasn't it,for another bottle?"
Corney was about to speak, when a young fireman entered the room withhis helmet hanging on his arm.
"Is it go on?" he inquired, looking round.
"No, it's go back, young Rags," replied Baxmore, as he refilled hispipe; "it was only a chimney, so you're not wanted."
"Can any o' you fellers lend me a bit o' baccy?" asked Rags. "I'veforgot to fetch mine."
"Here you are," said Dale, offering him a piece of twist.
"Han't ye got a bit o' hard baccy for the tooth?" said Rags.
"Will that do?" asked Frank Willders, cutting off a piece from a plug ofcavendish.
"Thank'ee. Good afternoon."
Young Rags put the quid in his cheek, and went away humming a tune.
In explanation of the above incident, it is necessary to tell the readerthat when a fire occurred in any part of London at the time of which wewrite, the fire-station nearest to it at once sent out its engines andmen, and telegraphed to the then head or centre station at WatlingStreet. London was divided into four districts, each districtcontaining several fire stations, and being presided over by a foreman.From Watling Street the news was telegraphed to the foremen's stations,whence it was transmitted to the stations of their respective districts,so that in a few minutes after the breaking out of a fire the fact wasknown to the firemen _all over London_.
As we have said, the stations nearest to the scene of conflagrationturned out engines and men; but the other stations furnished a man each.Thus machinery was set
in motion which moved, as it were, the wholemetropolis; and while the engines were going to the fire at full speed,single men were setting out from every point of the compass to walk toit, with their sailors' caps on their heads and their helmets on theirarms.
And this took place in the case of every alarm of fire, because fire isan element that will not brook delay, and it does not do to wait toascertain whether it is worth while to turn out such a force of men forit or not.
In order, however, to prevent this unnecessary assembling of men whenthe fire was found to be trifling, or when, as was sometimes the case,it was a false alarm, the fireman in charge of the engine that arrivedfirst, at once sent a man back to the station with a "stop," that is,with an order to telegraph to the central station that the fire turnsout to be only a chimney or a false alarm, and that all hands who havestarted from the distant stations may be "stopped." The "stop" was atonce telegraphed to the foremen, from whom it was passed (just as the"call" had been) to the outlying stations, and this second telegrammight arrive within quarter of an hour of the first.
Of course the man from each station had set out before that time, andthe "stop" was too late for _him_, but it was his duty to call at thevarious fire stations he happened to pass on the way, where he soonfound out whether he was to "go on" or to "go back."
If no telegram had been received, he went on to the fire; sometimeswalking four or five miles to it, "at not less than four miles an hour."On coming up to the scene of conflagration, he put on his helmet,thrust his cap into the breast of his coat, and reported himself to thechief of the fire brigade (who was usually on the spot), or to theforeman in command, and found, probably, that he had arrived just intime to be of great service in the way of relieving the men who firstattacked the flames.
If, on the other hand, he found that the "stop" had been telegraphed, heturned back before having gone much more than a mile from his ownstation, and so went quietly home to bed. In the days of which we writethe effective and beautiful system of telegraphy which now exists hadnot been applied to the fire stations of London, and the system of"stops" and "calls," although in operation, was carried out much lesspromptly and effectively by means of messengers.
Some time before the entrance of Willie Willders into the King Streetstation the engine had been turned out to a fire close at hand, whichproved to be only a chimney on fire, and which was put out by means of ahand-pump and a bucket of water, while Moxey was sent back with the"stop" to the station. The affair was over and almost forgotten, andthe men had resumed their pipes, as we have seen, when young Ragsentered and was told to go back.
Apologising for this necessary digression, we return to Joe Corney.
"The fact was," said he, "that we had had a fearful time of it thatwinter--blowin' great guns an' snow nearly every night, an' what wi'heat at the fires an' cowld i' the streets, an' hot wather pourin' on usat wan minnit an' freezin' on us the nixt, a'most every man Jack of uswas coughin' an' sneezin', and watherin' so bad at our eyes an' noses,that I do belave if we'd held 'em over the suction-pipes we might ha'filled the ingins without throublin' the mains at all. So the doctor hesaid, says he, `Lads, I'll send ye a bottle o' stuff as'll put yeright.' An' sure enough down comes the bottle that night when we wassmokin' our pipes just afther roll-call. It turned out to be the bestmidcine ever was. `Musha!' says I, `here's the top o' the marnin' toye, boys!' Baxmore he smacks his lips when he tastes it, opens hiseyes, tosses off the glass, and holds it out for another. `Howld on;fair play!' cried Jack Williams, so we all had a glass round. It wasjust like lemonade or ginger-beer, it was. So we sat down an' smokedour pipes over it, an' spun yarns an' sung songs; in fact we made ajollification of it, an' when we got up to turn in there warn't a dhropleft i' the bottle.
"`You'd better go to the doctor for another bottle,' says Moxey, as hewint out.
"`I will,' says I; `I'll go i' the marnin'.'
"Sure enough away I goes i' the marnin' to Doctor Offley. `Doctor,'says I, howldin' out the bottle, `we all think our colds are much thebetter o' this here midcine, an' I comed, av ye plaze, for another o'the same.'
"Musha! but ye should ha' seen the rage he goes off into. `Finished itall?' says he. `Ivery dhrop, doctor,' says I, `at wan sittin'.' Atthat he stamped an' swore at me, an' ordered me away as if I'd bin apoor relation; an' says he, `I'll sind ye a bottle to-night as'll cureye!' Sure so he did. The second bottle would have poison'd a rat. Itlasted us all six months, an' I do belave ye'll find the most of it inthe cupboard at this minnit av ye look."
"Come, Willie," said Frank, while the men were laughing at theremembrance of this incident. "I'm going down your way and will giveyou a convoy. We can take a look in at the gymnastics as we pass, ifyou choose."
"All right, Blazes, come along." So saying they left the station, andset off at a brisk pace in the direction of the City.
Fighting the Flames Page 8
