true, an' partikler
account o' the whole affair, from the fust bustin' out o' the flames,
an' the calling o' the _ingines_, to the last crash o' the fallin' roof,
and the roastin' alive of the 'ousehold cat. I will, as sure as you're
a six-foot flunkey!"

Thus adjured and threatened, the gossipy footman made a clean breast of
it. He told them how that I had acted like a hero at the fire, and
then, after giving, in minute detail, an account of all that the reader
already knows, he went on to say that the whole family, except Dr
McTougall, was laid up with colds; that the governess was in a high
fever; that the maid-servants, having been rescued on the shoulders of
firemen from the attics, were completely broken down in their nerves;
and that I had received an injury to my right leg, which, although I had
said nothing about it on the night of the fire, had become so much worse
in the morning that I could scarcely walk across the room. In these
circumstances, he added, Dr McTougall had agreed to visit my poor
people for me until I should recover.

"You see," continued the footman, "I only heard a little of their
conversation. Dr McTougall was saying when I come into the room:
`Well, Mr Mellon,' he said, `you must of necessity remain where you
are, and you could not, let me tell you, be in better quarters. I will
look after your patients till you are able to go about again--which
won't be long, I hope--and I'll make a particular note of your old
woman, and send her some wine and things immediately.' I suppose he
meant you, ma'am," added the footman, "but having to leave the room
again owing to some of the children howling for jam and pudding, I heard
no more."

Having thus delivered himself of his tale and parcel, the tall footman
took his leave with many expressions of good-will.

"Now, granny," remarked young Slidder, as he untied the parcel, and
spread its contents on the small deal table, "I've got a wague suspicion
that the 'ouse w'ich 'as gone to hashes is the wery 'ouse in w'ich Dr
Mellon put his little dog last night. 'Cause why? Ain't it the same
identical street, an' the same side o' the street, and about the same
part o' the street? An' didn't both him and me forgit to ask the name
o' the people o' the 'ouse, or to look at the number--so took up was we
with partin' from Punch? Wot more nat'ral than for him to go round on
'is way back to look at the 'ouse--supposin' he was too late to call?
Then, di