e? Well, I don't know about that, son," his father responded
doubtfully. "Young persons of three are not considered old enough to play
with the real thing. Won't make believe do just as well?"

"No, no--weal fire," repeated the child. "Le's put it out wiv sqi'yt
watto. P'ease, favver--p'ease!"

"Sqi'wt watto," repeated Anthony, laughing. "What do you mean by----? Oh,
I see----" as Tony demonstrated his meaning by running to the garden hose
which remained attached to a hydrant behind the house. "Well, son--if I
let you have a real fire and put it out with real water, will you promise
me never to try anything of that sort by yourself?"

Tony walked over to his father and laid a little brown fist in Anthony's.
"Aw wight," he said solemnly. Anthony looked down at the clasped hands and
smiled at the serious uplifted face. "Is that the way mother teaches you
to promise her?" he asked, with interest.

Tony nodded. "Aw wight," he said. "Come on. Le's make fire!"

The fire was made, out of a packing-box brought up from the cellar. It
burned realistically down by the orchard, and was only discovered by
chance when Anthony Robeson, Junior, happened to glance that way.

"_Fire!--fire!_" he shouted, and alarmed the fire company, who, as fire
companies should be, were ready to start on the instant. The hose-cart,
propelled by a pair of stout legs, made a gallant dash down the edge of
the garden, followed by the hook-and-ladder company, their equipment just
three feet long. It took energetic and skilful work to quench the
conflagration, which raged furiously and made plenty of good black smoke.
The fire chief rushed dramatically about, ordering his men with ringing
commands. Once he stubbed his bare toe and fell, and for a moment it
looked as though he must cry, but like the brave fellow that he was he
smothered his pain behind an uplifted elbow, and in a moment was again in
the thick of the fray. His men obeyed him with admirable promptitude,
although, contrary to the usual custom of fire chiefs, he himself took
hold of the hose and poured its volume upon the blazing structure.

When the fire was out the chief, breathless, his blue blouse bearing the
marks of the encounter with flood and flame, sat down upon the overturned
hose-cart and beamed upon his company.

"Vat was awful nice fire," he said. "Le's have anuver."

"Another? Oh, no," protested the company, hastily. "No more of that just
now. Pick up your hook-and-ladder wa