Fires and Firemen: from the Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science and Art, Vol XXXV No. 1, May 1855
1: Fires and Firemen Annual Reports of Mr. Braidwood to the Committee of the Fire Brigade [From the Quarterly Review] Among the more salient features of the Metropolis which instantly strike the attention of the stranger are the stations of the Fire Brigade. Whenever he happens to pass them, he finds the sentinel on duty, he sees the "red artillery" of the force; and the polished axle, the gleaming branch, and the shining chain, testify to the beautiful condition of the instrument, ready for active service at a moment's notice. Ensconced in the shadow of the station, the liveried watchmen look like hunters waiting for their prey--nor does the hunter move quicker to his quarry at the rustle of a leaf, than the Firemen dash for the first ruddy glow in the sky. No sooner comes the alarm than one sees with a shudder the rush of one of these engines through the crowded streets--the tearing horses covered with foam--the heavy vehicle swerving from side to side, and the black helmeted attendants swaying to and fro. The wonder is that horses or men ever get safely to their destination; the wonder is still greater that no one is ridden over in their furious drive.
folks at home, all these subjects and many others engaged his mind.
Beyond the wall on one side Penny was scraping busily on his violin. In
the pauses between exercises Clint could hear Harmon Dreer moving about
behind the locked door that separated Numbers 14 and 15. Then the door
from the well swung open, footsteps crossed the hall and Amy appeared,
racket in hand. After that there was no more chance of study, for Clint
had to tell of the fracas between Penny and Dreer while Amy, stretched
in the Morris chair, listened interestedly. When Clint ended Amy
whistled softly and expressively.
"Think of old Penny Durkin scrapping like that!" he said. Then, with a
smile, he added regretfully: "Wish I'd seen it! Handed him a regular
knock-out, eh? What do you know about that? Guess I'll go in and shake
hands with him!"
"Dreer?" asked Clint innocently.
"Dreer! Yah! Penny. Someone ought to thank him on behalf of the school.
Who was the kid? Charlie Melville?"
"I didn't hear his first name," replied Clint, nodding.
"He's a young rotter. Dare say he deserved what Dreer was giving him,
although I don't believe in arm-twisting. Dreer ought to have
spanked him."
1: Fires and Firemen Annual Reports of Mr. Braidwood to the Committee of the Fire Brigade [From the Quarterly Review] Among the more salient features of the Metropolis which instantly strike the attention of the stranger are the stations of the Fire Brigade. Whenever he happens to pass them, he finds the sentinel on duty, he sees the "red artillery" of the force; and the polished axle, the gleaming branch, and the shining chain, testify to the beautiful condition of the instrument, ready for active service at a moment's notice. Ensconced in the shadow of the station, the liveried watchmen look like hunters waiting for their prey--nor does the hunter move quicker to his quarry at the rustle of a leaf, than the Firemen dash for the first ruddy glow in the sky. No sooner comes the alarm than one sees with a shudder the rush of one of these engines through the crowded streets--the tearing horses covered with foam--the heavy vehicle swerving from side to side, and the black helmeted attendants swaying to and fro. The wonder is that horses or men ever get safely to their destination; the wonder is still greater that no one is ridden over in their furious drive.