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"And I, too," said Belle.

"And I, also, Uncle Jack," said Ben.

"Well, here is the story. Now, make believe that I am the dog:"

SMOKE *

THE STORY OF A FIRE DOG

(Told by Himself)

Jim Kelly's little girl Ellen came in with his dinner about twelve o'clock. As soon as Jim took the pail from her hands and kissed her, she ran over to me and began to say nice things, so I kissed her on her nose.

"Let him alone!" Jim yelled to Ellen. "He's been bad."

Ellen pulled back from me, and I ran to Mamie's stall and got comfortably between Mamie's hind legs. I knew she wouldn't budge as long as I was there, so I moved up after a little while to her front legs. She reached down and nosed me and told me things would be all right after a bit. There are plenty of fine human beings, but there isn't one born yet that is as good a friend to a fire dog as a fire horse is.

* Copyright, May, 1913, by the American Magazine, and used by permission.

I tucked down close to Mamie's left hoof and listened.

"What's the matter with Smoke?" I heard Ellen ask her daddy.

"Violating the rules and regulations again," he said. "I had to beat him this morning, and I'll beat him every time he does it.”

Ellen looked as if she were going to cry, but her father didn't notice it, as he was swallowing a can of hot soup. It smelled good to me.

"I brought Smoke two bones, Pop," said Ellen, after watching for a while.

"That's all right," said Jim. "Leave them with me."

Ellen began to whimper, and so I whimpered, and Mamie got uneasy and kicked the side of the stall.

It looked as if we were all in disgrace. The only thing we had to be thankful for was the weather. The engine-house doors were wide open, and a cool breeze swept through the stalls.

Bing!

The chain in front of Mamie dropped. The gong was sounding our call on a third alarm, and the men came shooting down the brass pole like lightning, one on top of the other.

Jim grabbed Ellen and tossed her into a corner as he dropped his dinner can.

Mamie was under the harness, in the center, in one half-second, her collar snapped tight, and she ready to make the big lunge that would start us all off. Prince, just as white as Mamie, and Togo, looking like a snow horse, flanked her, and they began slapping the floor with their iron shoes to get the right feel of it for the start.

Number Sixty-four is the heaviest engine in the Department, and there isn't anything in New York can excel our team, -Prince on the left, Mamie in the middle, and Togo on the right.

The second alarm had sounded twenty minutes before, and when the third came to call us out, we knew that there was a big fire to fight, and that it had got beyond the companies already at work.

fire

The fire was down in the oil-and-paint section below the old Brooklyn Bridge. If it was a paint house, that meant sore eyes for everybody, men, horses, policemen and dogs. Paint-smoke cuts like a knife, and the more water you pour on bursting barrels and cans, the worse it is.

Jim's Ellen was safe in the corner, and stood there without fidgeting. There isn't any fireman's little girl afraid of the noise and rush when we make

the start. Jim was up in the driver's seat with the reins in his hands, and leaning over Mamie's big white back.

I ran out and cleared the way for the engine. I barked as loudly as I could, and started the Fulton Street peddlers running for cover. I nipped one of the slow ones on the heel, and he yelled. All the truck-drivers heard me and pulled in to the curbs; and that part of my job was done, and done well. All my folks were in the fire department, and my grandmother Blaze had a reputation when she died, believe me. Her picture hangs on the wall in the Commissioner's office at Headquarters.

We had a down grade on Fulton Street to William, and our team was good and fresh. We made some fast time and turned north on William. I was keeping close to Mamie's nose all along the first stretch, but I knew what a mean street William is. The cross streets are so narrow and close together that any minute a truck might roll out in front of us. So I spread myself and took a halfblock lead on Number Sixty-four.

At Beekman Street I got the sting of the paintsmoke, and saw that the blaze was down near Pearl. I turned east, barking like mad, and sending all the people and vehicles out of the middle of

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