Laura became terrified at the way she saw poor Harry in, but when she opened the door to find out the real state of affairs, oh! what a dreadful sight was there! all the beds were on fire, while bright red flames were blazing up to the roof of the room, with a fierce roaring noise, which it was perfectly frightful to hear. She screamed aloud with terror at this alarming scene, while Harry did all he could to quiet her, and even put his hand over her mouth, that her cries might not be heard. Laura now struggled to get loose, and called louder and louder, till at last every maid in the house came racing up stairs, three steps at a time, to know what was the matter. Immediately upon seeing the flames, they all began screaming too, in such a loud discordant way, that it sounded as if a whole flight of crows had come into the passages. Never was there such an uproar heard in the house before, for the walls echoed with a general cry of "Fire! fire! fire!" Up flew Mrs. Crabtree towards the nursery like a sky-rocket, scolding furiously, talking louder than all the others put together, and asking who had set the house on fire, while Harry and Laura scarcely knew whether to be most frightened for the raging flames, or the raging Mrs. Crabtree; but, in the meantime, they both shrunk into the smallest possible size, and hid themselves behind a door. During all this confusion, Old Andrew luckily remembered, that, in the morning, there had been a great washing in the laundry, where large tubs full of water were standing, so he called to the few maids who had any of their senses remaining, desiring them to assist in carrying up some buckets, that they might be emptied on the burning beds, to extinguish the flames if possible. Every body was now in a hurry, and all elbowing each other out of the way, while it was most extraordinary to see how old Andrew exerted himself, as if he had been a fireman all his life, while Mrs. Marmalade, the fat cook, who could hardly carry herself up stairs in general, actively assisted to bring up the great heavy tubs, and to pour them out like a cascade upon the burning curtains, till the nursery-floor looked like a duck pond. Meantime Harry and Laura added to the confusion as much as they could, and were busier than anybody, stealing down the back-stairs whenever Mrs. Crabtree was not in sight, and filling their little jugs with water, which they brought up, as fast as possible, and dashed upon the flames, till at last, it is to be feared, they began to feel quite amused with the bustle, and to be almost sorry when the conflagration diminished. At one time, Laura very nearly set her own frock on fire, as she ventured too near, but Harry pulled her back, and then courageously advanced to discharge a shower from his own little jug, remaining stationary to watch the effect, till his face was almost scorched.