lity of the men; of the
terrible and the ludicrous scenes; of my own escape, quite alone, in bare
feet and one white garment; of my standing across a leaking hose, while a
strange man pulled my right arm, frantically crying, "You come with me!
my mother's got a blanket to wrap you up in!" and Mr. Ellsler, who had
just arrived, seized my left arm, dragging me his way and shouting, "Come
over to the house and get to bed quick, before you die of exposure!"
while I felt the water spraying my forlornly shivering shins, and was
more nearly torn asunder than was ever the Solomon baby.

"Oh, my!" said Mary, "how dreadful!"

"Yes," I said, musingly, "and what a fire this place would make--all
these partitions of painted pine!"

"Oh, don't!" protested Mary.

"But," said I, "you know that's what theatres are built for--to burn is
their natural end!" and then I was called, and went up-stairs to saunter
through another act of the mild little play.

I owned but little jewelry then, but what I had was noticeably good. My
rings, including the handsome pearl one Mr. Daly had given me as a
souvenir of "47," I had to remove from my fingers for the last act, and
when the curtain had fallen and I had rushed myself into street garments,
and was leaving the dressing-room in haste to join my waiting mother at
dinner, Mary called to me: "Miss Clara, you are leaving your diamond
rings--but never mind," she picked them up and dropped them, one by one,
into a little box: "I'll lock the door myself, you run along, the rings
will be safe enough--run!" and the answering words I heard swiftly
leaving my lips were absolutely involuntary and dictated by no thought of
mine. They were:

"Yes, as far as theft is concerned, they are safe enough, but in case of
fire? Better give them to me, Mary. Oh!" for the girl had dropped one on
the floor. It was a bit of Oriental enamel set about with tiny sparks of
diamonds. I put the others on, but would not wait for her to pick up the
rolling truant, and away I went.

At the corner of Sixth Avenue and Twenty-fourth Street I came to a
stand-still before two great snow-banks, and I thought again what they
might mean in case of a fire.

I reached home at a brisk pace, ran up-stairs, threw off my cloak, and
had drawn my dress-waist half off, when, without a preliminary knock, the
door was flung open and my landlord, Mr. Bardin, white with the
excitement that had wiped out his knowledge of English, stood
gesticu