Jack, the Fire Dog

He succeeds at last in rousing the heavy sleeper and at the same time the occupants of the other bed. They take in the situation at once, and in an instant are on their feet. They snatch up some articles of clothing and run for the stairs, putting them on as they go. The rolling door is thrown open, and their voices send out the startling cry of “Fire! Fire!”

The loud cry is borne on the night air to the stable beyond, where the farm-horses and cows are kept, and where other men are sleeping, and there the alarm is taken up and sent on to the house, where the family are fast asleep.

There is nothing that arouses one more suddenly and fills one with more alarm than the cry of “Fire!” in the middle of the night. In a few minutes all the people living on the place are aroused. The alarm is sounded for the only engine in town, but what can one engine a mile distant accomplish when a stable filled with hay is on fire?

The first thought is for the horses; and they, terrified at the noise and excitement and fast-gaining fire, refuse to leave their stalls, running back when they are released so soon as they catch sight of the flames. So blankets and carriage robes are hastily caught up and thrown over their heads, that they may not see the flames, and in that way they are led through the burning stable in safety and turned loose in the field, where they stand watching the commotion about them and snorting with terror.

Then the carriages are run out and harnesses caught down from the pegs where they hang, and carried to a place of safety. Meanwhile the fire steadily sweeps on its way, bursting through the roof and sending volumes of smoke and flame high up into the dark sky. The big elm that drooped its graceful branches over the burning building, shivers and moans like a live creature in pain, as the tongues of flame lick its fresh green leaves and shrivel them with their hot breath.

Every man and woman on the place is awake and on the spot, and the high wind is taking the smoke and flames of the burning building directly in the line of the stable where the farm-horses and cows are kept. These are taken out blindfolded, as the horses in the other stable have been, for the heat from the burning hay, the summer’s heavy crop, is intense, and the strong wind hurls blazing embers against the shingled roof.

It is evident that this stable will go like the other before long, and men are on the roof, stamping out the fire as often as it catches on the dry shingles. Then they do what is often done in country towns where the fire department is of little use. Two lines of men and women stand between the farm-stable and the well, while pails are hurriedly filled with water and passed from hand to hand along one line until they finally are handed up to the men on the roof, to be dashed over the heated shingles. Then the empty pails are passed down the other line to the well. In this way, the roof is kept wet and the burning embers are made harmless. Before the pails have been passed along the lines many times, the engine comes tearing up the driveway, the horses at full speed, and draws up before the burning stable. It is too late to be of any service there, but the other buildings can be saved, and the hose is quickly unwound and attached to the well. The deep thuds of the working engine are soon heard, and the hose is turned upon the farm-stable. Every throb of the engine sends the water higher and higher, until a broad, full stream strikes the ridgepole and sends rivulets running over the surface of the slanting roof. In less than five minutes more service is done than the lines of hard-working men and women could accomplish in an hour.

All this time the Fire-Dog, but for whose warning many lives would have been lost, is going in and out among the workers, with the same air of responsibility that he had always worn in the old days when he went to fires with Company 33. He threads his way among the crowd, which has collected, exactly as he used to, looking about to assure himself that everything is as it should be. When Sam and Billy appear on the scene, excited and awestruck, he stations himself by their side and never leaves them for an instant, as if he fears harm might come to them if he were not there to watch over them.

The anxiety comes to an end at last. The stable where the fire started is a pile of black and smoking embers, but the farm-stable with its sheds and paddocks is saved, and not a life lost, even to the kittens and puppies; and of old Jack, whose sagacity has brought this about, what a hero they make when the story is made known! The children cannot love him any more, because they already love him as much as they can, but every man and woman on the place has a kind word and a caress for the faithful Fire-Dog. If he were not the most modest dog that ever lived, his head would certainly be turned, for the facts even reach the newspapers, and the whole story is told that everybody may read it. It does not make him one bit conceited, the dear old Fire-Dog, and he would do the same thing right over again, even if every hair on his body should be singed. When, however, a handsome collar with a broad brass plate, on which is engraved in large letters

JACK THE FIRE-DOG

PRESENTED BY

HIS GRATEFUL FRIENDS,

is placed on his neck, then you may be sure his heart swells with pride and gratitude.

If only there were time enough, how we should like to tell a little more about Jack’s friends,—how Sam grew up to be a man very like his grandfather and made a great many people happy; how Billy grew strong and manly and at last became an artist and was able to make a comfortable home for his mother; how the three city children went home well and happy and came back for many summers, until Johnny was old enough to take a position in Mr. Ledwell’s business, where he made himself so useful that he rose a little higher in position each year; how helpful Hannah became to Mother, and what good care she took of the pretty house to which they moved in the beautiful town of Seaport; how Maysie turned out to be a very capable business woman; how Father enjoyed the new home in the country, and did not so often come home tired as he used to in the city.

We can only hint briefly at these things, however, for it is time to say good-bye to the dear old Fire-Dog and his friends.