Chums No. 785, Vol. XVI — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Surprised Her. TE son of a certain country squire, when cvi- lecting the rents of some cottages owned by his father, had his attention called by a tenant to a large diagonal crack in one of the walls close to which they were standing, with this remark from the woman: “I am afraid, sir, as the old house be a- coming down, sir.’’ “We will see to this,’’ said the young fellow. And, taking from his pocket a ‘few strips of stamp edging, he pasted them transversely over the fissure, so that he might on his next visit see whether the crack had extended. On his calling about a month afterwards he found the pieces of stamp edging still remain- ing unbroken, and pointing out to the old lady that the crack had not opened any further, he was amused with this unhesitating remark: ‘“Yees, sir; but who'd ha’ thought as two or three such bits of paper would ha’ held ’un to? together! AT THE RISK OF HIS LIFE, Fireman Kington’s Trying Ordeal. r]\HE fireman needs to be a tactful as well : as a brave man, for not only does he en- counter difficulties in fighting the flames, but he often has no little trouble in saving the lives of terrified human beings, who, well nigh out of their senses with fear, act in a manner which makes the work of rescue doubly hard and dangerous, Sometimes the person in danger, disregard- ing the warning shouts of the men below, will jump from a window, to fall stunned and maimed on the pavement beneath, even while a rescuer is hurryiug up the escape. Another person, on the other hand, will be so affected by fear that he will refuse to put out a hand to save himself. Then, indeed, is the fireman’s task a difficult one. At a fire which broke out in London some years ago an inmate of the burning house, who was suffering from a slight illness, absolutely declined to save himself. Luckily an escape was quickly on the scene, and a fireman named Kington, learning the facts, ran the head of the escape to a small third-floor window, smashed in the casement with his axe, and sprang through the smoke to the floor inside. Once there he soon found the man lying ill in bed. Kington seized him by the shoulder, and shook him, crying out that the house was alight, and their escape almost cut off. But the man refused to stir; he even refused to leave his bed. ‘ “No, I will not come!” he cried. “Where are my clothes? Get me my clothes!” i To do this was an impossibility, Kington recognised that desperate cases required desper- ate remedies, and, thrusting his axe back into its sheath, gripped the sick man by the arms, and with a strong pull dragged him to the flcor. And there he lay, clinging to the bed, grasping at the furniture, striking his would-be rescuer, and still crying out for his clothes. Given additional strength by his temporary loss of reason, he wrestled desperately with the fire- man, and Kington, although a big, powerful man, could scarcely maintain his hold. Still, he stuck to his task, and at length, half carrying, half dragging his struggling burden, he gained the front room. There the tussle went on with renewed vigour, while out- side. in the street, the crowd could be heard crying to him to hurry. At length Kington ‘oceeded in pinioning the madman’s arms and lragging him to the window. ‘ But he could get him no further, despite the fact that the floor was heaving and cracking vith the heat beneath, and the my upon the sill was peeling off. Kington drew the back of his hand across his brow; a last tremendous eTort by the man he was holding, and he had inaged to free himself again. The fireman sprang at him once more, threw him, and, winding his arms around him, pulled him back tc the window. , The flames, meanwhile, had been barpin fiercely out of the second-floor windows, an licking the walls and joists with hungry tongues. There was a sudden shake of the whole building, and a terrible burst of sparks flew up at the back. geet me: So Toe ae : . CHUMS. Just at that moment Kington and the other man were locked in each other’s arms on the a whore the flames entered. With a groan the fireman was forced to loose his hold. His arms, hands, and face were terribly burnt. The madman, with a wild scream, rushed out of the room on to the blazing staircase. Beaten, and scarcely able to see, Sclngton was forced to leave the unfortunate man to his fate. He turned, and staggered back to the window once again—but the escape had gone! The breeze had carried the flames against it, and it had caught alight. In order to save it the crowd had moved it a few yards away. The fireman was apparently left to his fate! Behind him were the roar and crackle of the burning floor; at any moment the whole build- ing might collapse. It was now or never if he wished to save his life. Clambering out upon the window-sill, the skin peeling from his hands as he grasped the almost red-hot framework, Kington gathered himself for a spring. With a desperate effort he launched himself through the air in the direction of the escape. There was a shout of horror from the crowd, and men sprang forward to break his fall. But fortune smiled upon him; his hand struck the ‘‘trussing’’ lines of the ladder, and he slid from the top of the escape to the ground. He had saved his life, but at a terrible cost of suffering. He well deserved the medal he received for the heroism he displayed, OUR PUZZLES. No. 1. ; i oO 2 3B AO 0.8 COF0 OUR ees BEvoABEEBBY ROD BD M Insert a third row of letters between the two rows given above, so that thirteen words of three letters each are formed, ‘The additional letters, when properly arranged, will form the name of a great schoolmaster and “on school over which he ruled. No. 2. The initials of three, the final letter of one, and the second letter of one of the names of the objects represented above, when properly arranged, will form the name of a common garden flower, (Drawn by E. H. Mepaorst, 84, Linton Street, Islington, N., to whom a “ Cuums”* Solid Silver Pencil-Case has been forwarded.] Answers To Pvzzires wn No, 784. No. 1,—Suzrrrztp Wepnespay; SorroW, Han- diE, ExceeD, FalcoN, FreezE, IdlerS, ExpanD, LaminA, DeputY. No, 2.—Antelope, Camel. At the End of the Holidays, I GATHER from our letter bag that schools have re-opened. This is not a cheerful re- flection, my Chums, with which to begin a chat this week, but I fear it is inevitable. W.: always says that going back to the office is not half as painful as leaving it. But this gener- — ally means to ineply that he is going to he out a long time for lunch and to ask for a rise of salary. When the Time Drags. f Generally, I think boys are not so reluctant — to go back after the summer vacation as they ar at Christmas and Easter. Some of us may even be not ashamed to confess that we are rather tired of it. We have played as much cricket, swum as many swims, hit about as many tennis balls as we wish to for the moment, Perhaps the last week of the holi- days has been almost a riotous week. We havo shied cricket stumps about, played “‘squasit crieket’’ on the tennis court, ragged in our room at night, and cheerfully borne witness to the fact that convention was dead and buried. These symptems point to too much holiday— especially faisg such a miserable summer aa that we have known are they likely to becomo aggravated. Let us, then, frankly accept the situation and return to school very willingly. We shall meet our chums there, and are ing to have a great football term; there will be the splendid Christmas holidays at the end of it, and what more can we ask? After the Punishment, Some schools, I say, already have’ re-opened. This much I gather from a letter addressed to me to-day by “WW. F.,”’ of Bath. Not only has this g fellow gone back to school, but he has already got into hot water there. He ‘“‘committed an offence,’’ he says (1 like the term), for which he was punished. is means t» say, I suppose, that he ragged the French master, or drew a picture of a chauffeur on the map of Italy, or pretended to smoke a wooden cigar and made his house-master look foolish. He may have been sent up school or given extra drill for such an offence. ‘But,’ says he, “I apologised, and now the other fellows saa me a sneak, and say I am trying to curry avour.”’ Not Always Necessary, : “ This is a nice little problem 1m school juris- prudence, my Chums, and we will consider it, if you please. Let me say at once that if any fellow has ragged a master in an ungentle- manly way, it is perfectly right and proper that he should apologise. Some of us have mad fits sometimes. We fill the French master’s overcoat, say, with chestnuts, pot a guinea-pig in the grand piano, or d.aw portraits of the drill sergeant (uncompliment- ary) on the school-house walls. ey are light- hearted exploits, which may properly call for an apology. Should we, on the other hand, break any mere school regulations, should we — be late, out of bounds, or accused of ing in a form room, or of having left Gon rail exercise in the gramophone—then I certain think it would be priggish to apologise. fellow does not profess to be a saint; and if he is going to pose as one, well, we shall soon have too muc nutshell. If the offence were one o! spirits and personal, I think an apology sh d have been made. If it were a mere school breach, then I hold that “W. F.’s"* chums are right, and that no apology will atone for his attempt to curry fayour with the master. According to Tradition. —__ Fellows very rightly dislike this favour cnrrying more than anything else that happens at school. I suppose it is just the same at th tablishments where our sisters go. We ose esta me! apts Bag aah et hate to think that eee yF PDair of him. ‘his is the thing ina