"Ah, by George, old feller," says one, "you'll catch a bite, before you know it!"
"Yes, I'm blamed if you ain't a goner, Old Tantabolus!" says another, in a pig's whisper.
"There! there he's got the fire up—now look out!"
"He's got the stick—"
"Goin' to clap it on!"
"Now it's on!"
"Look out for fun, by George, look out!"
"He'll blow the house up!"
"Godfrey! s'pose he does?"
"What an infernal wind there is this morning!" says the old fellow, hearing the buzz and indistinct whispering overhead; "guess it's snowin' like sin; I'll jist start up this fire and go out and see." But, he had scarcely reached and opened the door, when—"bang-g-g!" went the log, with the roar of a twelve pounder; hurling the fire, not only all over the lower floor, but through the upper loose flooring—setting the straw beds in a blaze—filling the house with smoke, ashes and fire! There was a general and indiscriminate rush of the practical jokers in the loft, to make an escape from the now burning building; but the step-ladder was knocked down, and it was at the peril of their lives, that all hands jumped and crawled out of the ranche! The only one who escaped the real danger was Old Tantabolus, the intended victim, whose remark was, after the flurry was over—"Boys, arter this, be careful how you lay your powder round!"