"REMARKABLE INCIDENT
"THE MAYOR MISSES HIS UMBRELLA
"The meeting at the Literary Institute in support of the candidature of Mr. Benjamin Moggridge was broken up by a most remarkable unrehearsed effect, which is probably without parallel in the political life of this country. The mayor, Alderman Noakes, was in the act of protesting, with all the dignity pertaining to his exalted office, against the demands of certain unruly spirits that he should vacate the chair, when a quantity of water, calculated to be equal to a rainfall of 2.8 ins., descended with startling suddenness and almost tropical violence upon the platform, bringing the meeting to a summary end. We understand that this inauspicious close to Mr. Moggridge's campaign was due to the unexpected operation of a new fire extinguisher, which the builder, our well-known and respected fellow citizen Mr. James Johnson, had located above the hall with a view to experimenting on a suitable occasion. The premature exhibition of this remarkable invention, which promises to be an epoch-making success, appears to have originated in the laudable desire of Mr. Noakes that the large audience should be in no way inconvenienced by the inclemency of the weather. His orders that the hall, which, in its unfinished state, might otherwise have sown the seeds of dangerous and possibly fatal complaints, should be heated to a wholesome degree of temperature, were carried out with what proved to be supererogatory solicitude; but our worthy mayor will doubtless console himself for his temporary discomfiture—the second this week, it will be remembered—with the reflection that the efficacy of the new fire extinguisher was abundantly demonstrated, and that the future immunity of the Literary Institute from the ravages of the devouring monster is assured."
A BRUSH WITH THE ENEMY
I
Eves was dozing comfortably beneath a pile of blankets. It was a cold morning, and though he had been awakened when Templeton rose from the adjacent bed, he had merely snorted in reply to his friend's declaration that it was time to get up, and turned over on the other side.
His slumbering ears were just conscious of a shout from below; but he paid no heed to it, even when it was repeated. He was settling down in luxurious warmth to that early morning sleep which so deliciously rounds off the night's repose, when two sinewy hands wrenched away the bedclothes wherein he had rolled himself, and Templeton shouted:
"Get up, you slugabed. It's come!"
"Cover me up, confound you!" cried Eves, wrathfully. "I shall catch my death of cold."
"Get up. I've been dressed half an hour. It's come, I tell you."