"No!" said May, throwing the cigarette down and setting her heel on it.
"If you are a coward and a girl-boy, why, I can't help it, but I'm going to smoke."
"If you are a tough and ill-bred, why I can't help it, but I'm not going to smoke."
After this interchange of opinions Philip lit a match, touched it to the end of the cigarette with the air of knowing just how it was done, then threw the blazing match down carelessly on the hay.
"You mustn't be so careless; you might set the barn afire," said May, jumping up and stamping out the match and a few wisps of blazing hay.
"What a fuss cat!" cried Philip, lighting a card of matches and throwing them recklessly down.
He meant only to arouse May's resentment, and threw them, as he supposed, far enough away from the hay, but his estimate of the distance was incorrect, and the matches fell into a depression in the hay, and before May could snatch them out little tongues of fire were darting in every direction.
"Help me, Philip!" she cried, trampling on the flames as she talked. "We must put it out or the barn will burn. It is full of hay and there is no water here."
Philip looked at the rapidly spreading flames with frightened eyes, then he ran out of the barn shouting "Fire!" at the top of his lungs. The barn was at some distance from the house and no one heard him, so he kept on running until he reached the house, when he entered the General's library without ceremony, crying, "Come, quick, Gay's set the barn on fire!"