The bird spread her wings and gently rose from the ground. The Teenie Weenies stood shouting good-bys, and waving hands and handkerchiefs, till bird and Scotchman were lost to sight in the blue sky overhead.
FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!
“F-f-f-f-f-fire! F-f-f-fire!” shouted the excited Dunce, as he dashed up to the shoe house, gasping for breath.
“Where? What?” cried the General popping his head out of the front door.
“Over t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-to th-th-th-th-th-th—”
“Great guns!” shouted the General, throwing up his hands in despair. “The house or whatever it is will burn down before you are able to tell us where the fire is. Out with it. Where is the fire? Quick!”
“It’s it’s over t-t-t-t-to th-th-th-th-the Lovers’ house,” gasped the Dunce, just as the Teenie Weenie fire engine and hook and ladder dashed up to the shoe house.
“To the Lovers’ house,” cried the General as he jumped onto the running board of the fire engine.