his knees, (kiking) violently, became incredibly busy with wire and

brass junctions and all sorts of mysteries.

"Fix it to the (kik) bathroom tap!" said Mr. Rusper.

Next door to the fire station was Mantell and Throbson's, the little

Fishbourne branch of that celebrated firm, and Mr. Boomer, seeking in

a teeming mind for a plan of action, had determined to save this

building. "Someone telephone to the Port Burdock and Hampstead-on-Sea

fire brigades," he cried to the crowd and then to his fellows: "Cut

away the woodwork of the fire station!" and so led the way into the

blaze with a whirling hatchet that effected wonders in no time in

ventilation.

But it was not, after all, such a bad idea of his. Mantell and

Throbsons was separated from the fire station in front by a covered

glass passage, and at the back the roof of a big outhouse sloped down

to the fire station leads. The sturdy 'longshoremen, who made up the

bulk of the fire brigade, assailed the glass roof of the passage with

extraordinary gusto, and made a smashing of glass that drowned for a

time the rising uproar of the flames.

A number of willing volunteers started off to the new telephone office

in obedience to Mr. Boomer's request, only to be told with cold

official politeness by the young lady at the exchange that all that

had been done on her own initiative ten minutes ago. She parleyed with

235

The History of Mr Polly