Then silence reigned for a time—a profound silence—while upwards of two hundred teeth went to work. Ere long most of the children were buttered to the eyes, and their rosy cheeks glistened like ripe apples. Soon the blacksmith drew a long breath and paused. Looking round with a benign smile he asked little Jim how he got along.
“Fust rate,” said Jim.
“How I wish,” said Dick, with a sad look at the toast, “that we might go on eatin’ for ever.”
“Is it right, daddy,” asked Tom, during a pause, “to eat with all our might?”
“Certainly, my boy, till you’ve had enough. After that it’s wrong to eat at all. ‘Enough’s as good as a feast,’ you know. Now, Old Moll, one more cup to wash it all down, and then we’ll go in for a confabulation round the fire.”
Now, nothing rejoiced the hearts of that family so much as a confabulation round the fire on a winter night, or under the great elm in front of the forge on the village green in summer.
The table was cleared as if by magic, for every member of the family helped. Soon, little Jim was sleeping as sound as a top in his crib, and Mrs Thorogood, with her knitting, joined the others at the fire, by the light of which the blacksmith made a little boat for Harry with a gully knife and a piece of stick.
“It’s a stormy night,” said Mrs Thorogood, as a violent gust of wind came down the chimney and rattled the window-frames.
“Ah, it was on just such a night that, my dear old father and mother were burnt out of house and home,” said the blacksmith; “well do I mind about it, for I was over ten years old at the time. We never found out what it was that set the house alight, but when it had once caught, it fetched way like lightning—the wind was so high. The first thing that woke me was sneezin’ wi’ the smoke. Then, I’d just opened my eyes when I saw the head of a ladder come crash through the window. It was the fire-escape. Father tried to save mother, but he was lame, and fell down half-choked. I tried to help him, but I was too young. Then a strapping fireman stepped in at the window, as cool as a cucumber, pitched us all into the escape, one after another; and so, through God’s mercy, we were saved. I’ve loved the firemen ever since. They are the boys to show you how to do things well; to do things with might and main, and no fuss, and to submit to discipline without a word.”
“Oh, father!” cried Harry with blazing eyes, “I should dearly like to be a fireman, an’ go fightin’ the flames.”