Within the house to perish. Who would save him! Grovelling before his feet the father lay, Of all forgetful but of his dear child, And prayed the injured man who had saved his life To save the boy! ‘Why spake ye not of him? He was more worthy saving of the two!’ Said John, abrupt and brief—and straight was gone. Once more he scaled the roof. The crowd was hushed Into deep silence: it had but one heart, Had but one breath, intense anxiety For that brave man who put again his life In such dire jeopardy. None spoke, But many a prayer was breathed. Along the roof Anon they saw him hurrying with the child. The red flames met him, hemmed him round about! Escape was not! The women sobbed and moaned Down in the crowd below; men gazed and trembled, And wild suggestions ran throughout the mass Of how he might be saved. But all were vain, Help was there none! Amid the roaring flames His voice was heard; he spake, they knew not what; They hurried to and fro; the engines drenched The burning pile. He made another sign! Oh, God! could they but know what was his wish! —They knew it not! The fierce flame mastered all— The roof fell in—the child—the man was lost!” The grandsire paused a moment, then went on; “Yes, in our common life of every day There are true heroes, truer, many a one, Than they whose deeds are blazoned forth on brass! —Now leave me to myself; give me my pipe— You’ve had your will; I’ve told you of a hero, One of God’s making—and he was, your own father!” THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF LIEUTENANT WAGHORN.