A fire broke out at Gallipoli on the morning of Saturday, the 22nd of April. The previous Friday was the Good Friday of the Greeks, and they kept it as is their wont on a great festival, staying up late and feasting and revelling. It was late, therefore--about 9 o'clock in the morning--when, in the middle of a comfortable sleep, we were awakened by Assistant-Surgeon Irwin, of the 28th, who slept in a den in the next room with Captain Mansell, of the same regiment, rushing in and exclaiming--"Get up! get up! Alexander's house is on fire!" The house in which the principal medical officer lived was on the other side of the street, about three houses lower down. Flames were issuing through the windows of Papa Zonani's residence, and the Greek population were gazing idly on while those who lived on either side were removing their effects as rapidly as possible. The Turks stroked their beards, and considered that the will of God was directly concerned in the destruction of the premises, while the Greeks wrung their hands, and did nothing further. The Major in his excitement dashed his hand through a pane of glass, and shouted out, "Get up and bundle out your things, or we're done for." A jump out of bed and a rush at the few spare articles of clothing lying about followed, and then commenced a rapid flight down stairs into a garden of onions and garlic at the rear of the house, which seemed especially formed as a refuge for us. There were in the house Mr. Irwin, of the 28th, Captain Mansell, of the 28th, Major Collingwood Dickson, R.A., two soldiers of the 28th, servants of the officers, an old woman, several children, cocks, hens, &c., immediately a secession of _lares_ and _penates_ to this land of refuge began; beds, coats, trunks, portmanteaus, boxes, were hurled down the stairs, and fierce struggles took place for precedence in the narrow passage, while the old lady and the children howled dismally as they flew about with pipkins and spinning-reels and inexplicable chattels. [Sidenote: A FIRE AT GALLIPOLI.]