Beautiful Joe [111]
up beside the open mouth of his friend. The monkeys make a jabbering noise, and
held on to the bars of their cage with their little black hands, while they
looked out at me. The dogs sniffed the air, and wagged their tails, and tried to
put their muzzles through the bars of their cage. I liked the dogs best, and I
wanted to see the one they called Bob, so I went up quite close to them. There
were two little white dogs, something like Billy, two mongrel spaniels, an Irish
terrier, and a brown dog asleep in the corner, that I knew must be Bob. He did
look a little like me, but he was not quite so ugly for he had his ears and his
tail.
While I was peering through the bars at him, a man came in the stable. He
noticed me the first thing, but instead of driving me out, he spoke kindly to
me, in a language that I did not understand. So I knew that he was the Italian.
How glad the animals were to see him! The gander fluttered out of his nest, the
ponies pulled at their halters, the dogs whined and tried to reach his hands to
lick them, and the monkeys chattered with delight. He laughed and talked back to
them in queer, soft-sounding words. Then he took out of a bag on his arm, bones
for the dogs, nuts and cakes for the monkeys, nice, juicy carrots for the
ponies, some green stuff for the goats, and corn for the gander.
It was a pretty sight to see the old man feeding his pets, and it made me feel
quite hungry, so I trotted home. I had a run down town again that evening with
Mr. Morris, who went to get something from a shop for his wife. He never let his
boys go to town after tea, so if there were errands to be done, he or Mrs.
Morris went. The town was bright and lively that evening, and a great many
people were walking about and looking into the shop windows.
When we came home, I went into the kennel with Jim, and there I slept till the
middle of the night. Then I started up and ran outside. There was a distant bell
ringing, which we often heard in Fairport, and which always meant fire.
CHAPTER XXXIV A FIRE IN FAIRPORT
I HAD several times run to a fire with the boys, and knew that there was always
great noise and excitement. There was a light in the house, so I knew that
somebody was getting up. I don't think indeed I know, for they were good boys
that they ever wanted anybody to lose property, but they did enjoy seeing a
blaze, and one of their greatest delights, when there hadn't been a fire for
some time, was to build a bonfire in the garden.
Jim and I ran around to the front of the house and waited. In a few minutes,
some one came rattling at the front door, and I was sure it was Jack. But it was
Mr. Morris, and without a word to us, he set off almost running toward the town.
We followed after him, and as we hurried along other men ran out from the houses
along the streets, and either joined him; or dashed ahead. They seemed to have
dressed in a hurry, and were thrusting their arms in their coats, and buttoning
themselves up as they went. Some of them had hats and some of them had none, and
they all had their faces toward the great red light that got brighter and
brighter ahead of us. "Where's the fire?" they shouted to each other. "Don't
know afraid it' s the hotel, or the town hall. It's such a blaze. Hope not.
How's the water supply now? Bad time for a fire."
It was the hotel. We saw that as soon as we got on to the main street. There
were people all about, and a great noise and confusion, and smoke and blackness;
and up above, bright tongues of flame were leaping against the sky. Jim and I
kept close to Mr. Morris's heels, as he pushed his way among the crowd. When we
got nearer the burning building, we saw men carrying ladders and axes, and
others were shouting directions, and rushing out of the hotel, carrying boxes
and bundles and furniture in their arms. From the windows above came a steady
stream of articles, thrown among the crowd. A mirror struck Mr. Morris on the
arm, and a whole package of clothes