And one, the leader of the band, From Charing Cross along the Strand, Like stag by beagles hunted hard, Ran till he stopp'd at Vin'gar Yard. The burning badge his shoulder bore, The belt and oilskin hat he wore, The cane he had his men to bang, Show'd foreman of the British gang. His name was Higginbottom; now 'Tis meet that I should tell you how The others came in view: The Hand-in-Hand the race begun, Then came the Phoenix and the Sun, Th' Exchange, where old insurers run, The Eagle, where the new; With these came Rumford, Bumford, Cole, Robins from Hockley-in-the-Hole, Lawson and Dawson, cheek by jowl, Crump from St. Giles's Pound: Whitford and Mitford join'd the train, Huggins and Muggins from Chick Lane, And Clutterbuck, who got a sprain Before the plug was found. Hobson and Jobson did not sleep, But ah! no trophy could they reap, For both were in the Donjon Keep Of Bridewell's gloomy mound! E'en Higginbottom now was posed, For sadder scene was ne'er disclosed; Without, within, in hideous show, Devouring flames resistless glow, And blazing rafters downward go, And never halloo "heads below!" Nor notice give at all: The firemen, terrified, are slow To bid the pumping torrent flow, For fear the roof should fall. Back, Robins, back! Crump, stand aloof! Whitford, keep near the walls! Huggins, regard your own behoof, For lo! the blazing rocking roof Down, down in thunder falls! An awful pause succeeds the stroke, And o'er the ruins volumed smoke, Rolling around its pitchy shroud, Conceal'd them from th' astonish'd crowd. At length the mist awhile was clear'd, When lo! amid the wreck uprear'd, Gradual a moving head appear'd, And Eagle firemen knew: 'Twas Joseph Muggins, name revered, The foreman of their crew. Loud shouted all in signs of woe, "A Muggins to the rescue, ho!" And pour'd the hissing tide: Meanwhile the Muggins fought amain, And strove and struggled all in vain, For rallying but to fall again. He totter'd, sunk, and died!