Tommy rolled out from under the tree like an armadillo. Nellie clasped her hands and shut her eyes to keep out the terrible sight and began to moan and wail. Uncle Robert and Aunt Maria both started somewhere for pails of water, while papa and mamma began tugging at a piece of carpet to smother the blaze.
And then, all at once, there was somebody else at work, and there came a hissing sound, as if water was being put on the flames, and right among them stood Eb, with something over his shoulder and under his arm, and in his hand there was a sort of a tube that sent a stream of water just where it was needed, and that put out the burning cotton in just about the time it has taken me to tell about it. When Aunt Maria and Uncle Robert came hurrying back with pails of water, there was no use for them. Papa and mamma and Nellie and Tom were gathered about Eb, more interested in what he had under his arm and over his shoulder than in the Christmas tree, which was scarcely damaged at all, for the flames had not reached the presents, and there was only a little water on Tommy’s train, which hadn’t even stopped running, being the kind of train, Tommy said, that didn’t mind a little thing like lightning and rain.
“Why, it’s Eb’s fire-extinguisher!” said Uncle Robert. “I forgot all about that!”
“But Eb didn’t!” said Tommy. “He put it in here last night, because he knew there’d be a fire with all that cotton of yours, sis.”
“He knew you’d knock over a candle, I guess,” retorted Nell.
Then the wet cotton was taken away, and the presents rearranged about the tree, and Tommy’s train wound up again, and everything was as fine as if nothing had happened, though they didn’t any of them forget what might have happened if it hadn’t been for Eb with his fire-extinguisher.
And that was one of the finest Christmases that ever was! And at dinner-time Eb was there, with his bright new tie on, and sat right by Nellie, and was almost like the hero of the day. And after the turkey was carved, Mr. William Whittaker said, all at once, to Eben Lessing, as if he’d just happened to think of it:
“By-the-way, Eb, how would you like to take a course in a mechanical school? We’ve a good deal of room in our house, and now and then I need somebody to help me. You can come home with us and go to school, if you like.”
And would you believe it, Eb couldn’t say a word! He was like the others when he had flung open the door of the sitting-room and blinded them with the wonderful tree—he just sat there and blinked.
Nellie answered: “Of course, papa, Eb would like it. Wouldn’t you, Eb?”