bered both. Carefully fastening the rope about the body of his daughter, he lowered her safely to the street. Some one loosened the rope and the man hauled it up again. He lowered his wife next in the same manner. When he hauled the rope up again, the fire had already burned its way into his room. The flames leaped toward the open window, but the man remained cool and even waited to wrap towels about his hands before sliding down the rope. A minute later he stood safely on the sidewalk, his hands not so much as blistered, ready to aid in assisting the escape of others.

In one of the larger rooms of the hotel, thirty little children were having a dancing lesson. A maid, who was with them, happened to open the door into the hall. Hastily she threw it shut again. She had seen the smoke and flames outside, but she was wise enough not to scream. Instead she whispered a quick word into the teacher's ear. Both women were now white as chalk, and the teacher trembled for her little charges as she glanced at their thin lace frocks.

Only for a second, however. She controlled herself with a great effort, and quietly told the children that the lesson was over for the day. With the help of the maids present, she hurried them into their cloaks. These were heavy, she reasoned, and would not catch fire so quickly as the thin dresses the children wore. She bade them form in line, each holding the next by the hand, and not to let go, for any reason whatever. Then she told them to follow her wherever she might

lead. As she opened the door, the little ones started back in fear at sight of the fire beyond it. But she promised to get all of them safely out, if they kept tight hold of hands and followed where she led.

Then the long line began to move. Hugging the walls, creeping along the floor, twisting its way down the smoke-filled staircases, the little band finally reached the street, every one safe and sound, simply because of obedience to orders. The children, obeying one clearheaded leader, marched out in as orderly a manner as in a school fire drill, in spite of the terrible smoke and flames. And so it came about that thirty children were saved at a fire where many grown-up men and women were unable to escape.

In another room in the hotel a lady lay ill in bed. Her trained nurse heard a strange noise in the hall, and looked out. Against the awful background of reddened smoke and whirling flame, she saw two men running wildly to and fro, hunting in vain for the stairways. She knew that the stairs were at the other end of the building, and that the fire roared between. It was plain that the men could never reach them, so she pulled both into her room, locked the door after them, and dropped the key into her pocket. The excited men tried to force it from her. She smiled quietly, and calmly told them that she would show them the way out if they would follow her.

Wrapping a blanket about her patient, she carried her bodily to the fire escape outside the window, afraid

N

to trust her to the frightened men, who were so much stronger than herself. Then down the ladder she went, bearing her burden bravely, and bidding the halfcrazed men follow. Halfway down firemen came to meet her, and presently all four were safe in the street.

Loyalty to duty, even in the face of deadly peril, led the nurse to save her patient; and woman though she was, her coolness and determination saved the lives of two men so overcome by fear that they were unable to help themselves. The same loyalty to duty kept the elevator boys, Joyce and Guion, at their posts when they might have made their escape. Each of these heroes made trip after trip, carrying his car up and down, up and down, rescuing guests from the upper floors, and stopping only when the elevator shaft had turned into a column of solid, roaring flame.1

JULIA RICHMAN and ISABEL R. WALLACH.

Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee the crown of life.

- Revelation ii. 10.

1. What started the fire?

2. What were the guests doing?

3. How did one man save his family?

4. Tell about the children who escaped.

5. How did the nurse get out with her patient and the men? 6. What is said about Joyce and Guion?

1 From Good Citizenship. Copyright, 1908, by Julia Richman and Isabel Richman Wallach. By permission of American Book Company, publishers.

JO'S CONQUEST

I

THE following extract is taken from "Little Women," a favorite story of four American girls. Their names were Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy March, and they lived at home with their mother, while their father was away fighting in the Federal Army in the Civil War of 1861-65. The Marches had as a neighbor an old gentleman named Laurence, whose grandson, Laurie, was the friend of the girls and their mother.

Meg, Beth, and Amy were sitting together, late in the afternoon, when Jo burst into the room, looking excited, and demanding breathlessly :

"Has any one taken my story?"

Meg and Beth said "No" at once, and looked surprised; Amy poked the fire, and said nothing. Jo saw her color rise, and was down upon her in a minute. "Amy, you've got it!"

"No, I haven't."

"You know where it is, then !" "No, I don't."

"That's a fib!" cried Jo, taking her by the shoulders, and looking fierce enough to frighten a much braver child than Amy.

"It isn't. I haven't got it; don't know where it is now, and don't care."

"You know something about it, and you'd better tell at once, or I'll make you ;" and Jo gave her a slight shake.

"Scold as much as you like; you'll never get your silly old story again!" cried Amy, getting excited in her turn.

"Why not?"

"I burnt it up."

"What! my little book I was so fond of, and worked over, and meant to finish before father came home from the war? Have you really burnt it?" said Jo, turning very pale, while her eyes kindled, and her hands clutched Amy nervously.

"Yes, I did! I told you I'd make you pay for being cross yesterday, and I have, so

Amy got no further, for Jo's hot temper mastered her, and she shook Amy till her teeth chattered in her head, crying in a passion of grief and anger:

"You wicked, wicked girl! I never can write it again, and I'll never forgive you as long as I live.”

Meg flew to rescue Amy, and Beth to pacify Jo, but Jo was quite beside herself; and, with a parting box on her sister's ear, she rushed out of the room up to the old sofa in the garret, and finished her fight alone.

The storm cleared up below, for Mrs. March came home, and, having heard the story, soon brought Amy to a sense of the wrong she had done her sister. Jo's book was the pride of her heart, and was regarded by