head, the firemen are asleep, half-dressed, in a big room full of cot beds. Stout poles set in big rubber pads go up through manholes to the upper floor. You wonder what these are for.
Suddenly the brass gong strikes four-two-one. That is the "forward charge!" for that engine house. "Turn out," yells the man at the desk. But everyone has turned out. The firemen drop through those holes and slide down the poles. They button their coats as they run. The touch of an electric button unhitches the horses and they leap in front of the engine. The driver springs to the seat and gathers up the reins. That act drops the harness from the ceiling to the horses’ backs. Snap, snap, snap, go the harness buckles, under a dozen pairs of hands. The night watch thrusts a torch into the fire, under the engine boiler. Men spring to the hose tender, slipping into rubber coats and helmets as they jump.
With a pounding of hoofs, the big percheron horses are off. Smoke already comes from the stack. Clang, clang, rings the bell. Clear the streets, get out of the way! The desk sergeant has shouted the number of the box the alarm came from, and the engine makes straight for that corner. The person who sent in the alarm, or a policeman who stands there, tells the fire crew where the fire is. In two minutes from the alarm, the hose is screwed to a water hydrant six blocks from the engine house and the engine is pumping water into the burning building.
The first thing to be saved in a fire is life, the second property. A hook and ladder truck is there as soon as the engine. Firemen run up stairways and ladders to find people. They knock at doors and shout to people to answer them. If they hear a scream or a moan, they break down doors and go right through flame and smoke to carry people out.
One fireman can bring down four people at once on a long shaking ladder. He can hook two children to his belt, and bring a mother and baby on one arm. Back he goes into the flames. This time it is a two—hundred pound man, overcome with smoke, that he brings down. Firemen creep along dizzy window ledges, where you would not think a cat could go. They climb on roofs and drop through skylights. They make bridges across alleys and courts with ladders; they hang over roof cornices. Firemen every day do deeds of daring that you would think impossible.
Every day these brave fire fighters are killed, or injured for life. Burning shutters, cornices and awnings fall upon them. Sometimes
