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air. The first horse
would not go with him; he tried the second and third; they too would not stir. He
came to me and tried to drag me out by force of course, that was no use. He
tried us all by turns and then left the stable shouting, ‘All right, burn you
bastards, burn!’
    No doubt we were very
foolish, but danger seemed to be all round, and there was nobody we knew to
trust in, and all was strange and uncertain. The fresh air that had come in
through the open door made it easier to breathe, but the rushing sound overhead
grew louder, and as I looked upward, through the bars of my empty rack, I saw a
red light flickering on the wall. Then I heard a cry of ‘Fire!’ outside; it
wasn’t outside — it was in here! The old ostler quietly and quickly came in; he
got one horse out,, and went to another, but the flames were playing round the
trap door, and the roaring overhead was dreadful.
    The next thing I heard was
James’s voice, quiet and cheery, as it always was.
    ‘Come, Beauty, on with your
bridle, my boy, we’ll soon be out of this smother.’
    It was on in no time; then
he took the scarf off his neck, and tied it lightly over my eyes. The fool — I
immediately walked into the wall. He led me out of the stable, crashing into
everything. Safe in the yard, he slipped the scarf off my eyes, and shouted,
‘Here, somebody! Take this horse while I go back for the other.’
    A tall, broad man stepped
forward and took me, and James darted back into the stable. I set up a shrill
whinny as I saw him go. ‘Ah, shut up,’ said the tall, broad man.
    On the other side of the
yard, windows were thrown up, and people were shouting all sorts of things:
‘Land ahoy!’
    ‘God save the Queen.’ A lot
of good that did. Then came a cry:
    ‘James Howard! James
Howard! Are you there?’
    Well, he wasn’t. I heard
the crash of something falling in the stable, and the next moment I gave a loud
joyful neigh. ‘Shut up!’ said the tall, broad man. Then I saw James coming
through the smoke leading Ginger. He was coughing violently and wasn’t able to
speak.
    ‘My brave lad!’ said the
master, laying his hand on his shoulder. ‘Are you hurt?’
    James shook his head, for
he could not speak.
    ‘Aye,’ said the big man who
held me, ‘he is a brave lad, and no mistake.’
    I pulled myself free of the
big man. I didn’t like him; I bit his nose off. He put it in a handkerchief and took away.
    ‘ ’Tis the fire engine! The
fire engine!’ shouted two or three voices. ‘Stand back, make way!’ My master
didn’t stand back and the fire engines ran over him. James helped him to his
feet but he was covered with muck and dung and embers from his smouldering
trousers. The fireman put the hose on him, and blew him out the door. , There
was a dreadful sound; it was that of the horses I falling from the top floor.
We were taken in and well done by, with firemen playing their hoses on us all
night.
    The next morning, the master
came to see how we f were; we were soaked. James looked very happy after a
visit to his mistress. His mistress was much alarmed in the night with James
climbing into bed with her. Then the under ostler — there was one under ostler
and one on top — said he had asked Dick go up the ladder to put down some hay,
but told him to lay down his pipe first. Dick denied that his pipe had started
the fire.
    Two poor horses that
couldn’t get out were cooked to a nicety, and then exported to some French
restaurants.

17

JOHN MANLY’S TALE
     
    We went to visit a friend.
    Whose life was reaching its end
    Master came to say good-bye
    And advised him to try and not die
    His doctor had said he would live for twenty years
    So he need have no fears
    So he got out of his bed
    And stood on his head
    But the blood burst a vessel in his brain
    And he immediately died yet again.
     
    The rest of our journey was
very easy — we got a lift on a wagon. A little after sunset, we reached the
house of my master’s friend. We