Jenny lay upon the ground, with clasped hands and streaming eyes. Becky stood by her side, looking ruefully at the burning building. No more work there.
“Yes, Jenny, I believe I’ve saved both our lives. But there’s one thing I forgot; and it’s just like me. Your crutch! I might have saved that too.”
Not quite a thoughtful, earnest woman yet, Becky; but this day the climbing frolics of the tomboy days have enabled you to glorify humanity with its proudest triumph—an heroic act!
The Burning Mill.—[Page 142].
CHAPTER IX.
TEDDY SLEEPER DINES OUT.
Just before the breaking out of the fire in the paper mill Teddy Sleeper, sat on the door step awaiting the return of his sister. He was particularly uneasy on this occasion, having had a long spell of fishing with no luck, “not even a bite” and was very impatient at the delay in obtaining a “bite” at home, it being the invariable rule there, to wait for Becky. Teddy under the wise rule of his sister had lost much of his gaukiness and rough speech but had lost none of his rotundity of form and cool, phlegmatic disposition. With him everything was taken as a matter of course. Nothing ever surprised him into expressions of wonder, and seldom did he lose his temper. The sole disturber of his peace was hunger—the foe that has successfully assailed the good disposition of many wise and great men. Under its attacks Teddy grew restless and disorderly. He was in a fair way to do something rash, when his keen eye discovered smoke rolling up over the paper mill, and the cry of “Fire! fire! fire!” faintly reached his ears. He rolled off the step, took a long look in the direction of the smoke, then started down the hill. Reaching the church, he saw Phil Hague standing before the captain’s house, shading his eyes and looking up the road. People were hurrying toward the fire.