The Knickerbocker, Vol. 10, No. 4, October 1837Various
History
The Knickerbocker, Vol. 10, No. 4, October 1837
Various
Periodicals
* * * * *
'Tis almost o'er! My wildered senses roam--
A thousand harps the balmy air are filling!
A thousand angel voices wildly thrilling,
Are calling, 'Kindred spirit, haste thee home!'
Speed, speed, my ling'ring soul!--'I come! I come!'
_Wilmington, (Del.,) August, 1837._ J. T. J.
NOTES OF A SURGEON.[1]
NUMBER TWO.
THE INCENDIARIES.
I WAS aroused from my sleep one morning about three o'clock, by the
alarm of fire. A bright light was shining into my room, and casting
its tinted rays in flashes over the wall, pallid by the beams of
a December moon, like the flickering glances of hectic over the
consumptive cheek of beauty. On going to the window, I discovered
that the fire was but a short distance from the hospital, and
in broad view. A brilliant fire so near me, overcame my natural
apathy, and packing on some extra habiliments, I sallied out to see
what havoc this mighty element was making among the time-worn and
thickly-tenanted buildings of the purlieus of L---- street.
The engines were already at work, when I reached the spot. A
dwelling-house was on fire, and the flames were shooting merrily up
from the roof and windows, tinged or obscured for a brief moment by
the occasional flood of water which the bounteous hose lavished upon
the most flagrant portions of the enkindled domicil--a powerful and
efficient _antiphlogistic_, as it struck me at the time. I made my
way, with others, into an alley which led to the rear of the house,
with some faint hope that I might be of service in arresting the
flames, or at any rate, enjoy a fair and near view of the fire,
without the danger of being trodden under foot. The whole back part
of one wooden building was in a blaze, and the persons in the yard
were pointing to it with evident marks of interest and agitation. I
did not have long to wait, to be informed of the subject of their
solicitude. Presently, a figure shot through the second-story window,
sash and all, and bounded to the ground. He rolled and plunged about,
and endeavored to tear off his burning garments; for, singularly
enough, he was dressed in pantaloons, boots, and vest, as if he had
not been in bed; his hair was entirely singed off, and his shirt was
fast consuming from his arms. In a moment, another one similarly
dressed, but without shoes, rushed down stairs, and tumbled into
the middle of the yard, uttering most pitiable cries. Astonished
at such a sudden apparition, the spectators scarcely knew what to
do; and I was equally at a loss, for an instant; but running up to
the one who lay prostrate on the ground, where he had just pitched
from the door, with the aid of some of the more wakeful beholders, I
extinguished the fire about his neck and shoulders, as effectually
as was practicable. He would hardly permit any one to touch him,
but kept thrusting his burning arms up to his face, and thus adding
unconsciously to the mischief.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account