on the alert. No hour of the day or night can he ever
count on as being his own, unless on those occasions when he obtains
leave of absence, which I suppose are not frequent. If he does not
absolutely sleep in his clothes, he sleeps beside them--arranged in such
a way that he can jump into them at a moment's notice.

When the summons comes there must be no preliminary yawning; no soft
transition from the land of dreams to the world of reality. He jumps
into his boots which stand invitingly ready, pulls on his trousers,
buttons his braces while descending to the street, and must be
brass-helmeted on the engine and away like a fiery dragon-gone-mad
within three minutes of "the call," or thereabouts, if he is to escape a
fine.

Moreover, the London fireman must be prepared to face death at any
moment. When the call comes he never knows whether he is turning out to
something not much more serious than "a chimney," or to one of those
devastating conflagrations on the river-side in which many thousand
pounds worth of property are swept away, and his life may go along with
them. Far more frequently than the soldier or sailor is he liable to be
ordered on a duty which shall turn out to be a forlorn hope, and not
less pluckily does he obey.

There is no respite for him. The field which the London Brigade covers
is so vast that the liability to be sent into action is continuous--
chiefly, of course, at night. At one moment he may be calmly polishing
up the "brasses" of his engine, or skylarking with his comrades, or
sedately reading a book, or snoozing in bed, and the next he may be
battling fiercely with the flames. Unlike the lifeboat heroes, who may
sleep when the world of waters is calm, he must be ever on the watch;
for his enemy is a lurking foe--like the Red Indian who pounces on you
when you least expect him, and does not utter his warwhoop until he
deems his victory secure. The little spark smoulders while the fireman
on guard, booted and belted, keeps watch at his station. It creeps
while he waits, and not until its energies have gained considerable
force does it burst forth with a grand roar and bid him fierce defiance.

Even when conquered in one quarter it often leaps up in another, so that
the fireman sometimes returns from the field twice or thrice in the same
night to find that the enemy is in force elsewhere and that the fight
must be resumed.

In the spring of 1867 I went to London to gather mate