then in fancied security, and looked out at the flames. The little fellow for awhile could not speak. He became pale with terror, and with a loud cry he burst out with this thought: "O, pa, pa, come and see! God is burning up the world, and He won't make another, and He won't make another!" It was in vain they tried to pacify him, he still continued his cry, and it was only when far away from the dreadful scene which roused so strangely his youthful imagination, that he became calm. [Illustration: VIEW FROM QUEEN SQUARE.] But there were other incidents in this quarter of the city which deserve more than a passing notice. There were deeds of heroism done and hours of agony endured that should be recorded and remembered. There were exploits exhibiting a broad humanity and great self-sacrifice performed, that should not be forgotten or go down unrecognised. We had heroes in our midst that night, and the man who climbed three stories of a house enveloped in the flames, and snatched the sleeping infant from its crib, and brought her safe to her agonized mother in the square below, is as surely as brave as "he who taketh a city," or marches against the invader of his country. If there are decorations of honour to be given, let them be bestowed on those noble ones who saved lives that day. A case has come under the writer's notice which deserves the fullest publicity. Mr. D. R. Munro, after working at John McDougall's place in York Point for some time, and then going to the assistance of an old lady who was striving to save her bedding, started for Lower Cove in the direction of Mr. Tucker's house. On his way he noticed with alarm the extraordinary headway which the fire was making. Trinity and St. Andrew's were on fire, and the Victoria Hotel just catching. Some of the streets were so blocked up with people, and thick with flame and smoke, that he could not pass them. He had to go through Chipman's field, but he could not get further along Prince William Street. Germain Street was the only way open to him, and by this thoroughfare he journeyed till he reached Queen Square. Here Mrs. Freeman, the rigger's wife, was gathering together her scattered effects, when her little children raised the cry, "Quick, quick, mother's on fire! Save my mother!" Mr. Munro and a companion rushed in, seized Mrs. Freeman, wound a carpet about her, and tried to smother the flames with their hands. As soon as the carpet was removed from her person, the fire again seized her, when her clothes had to be torn from her and she was rolled on the grass with a table-cloth wrapped tightly around her. This saved her life, and she escaped the awful death which seemed so imminent. Mrs. Tucker's house was by this time in great danger, the leaping flames were expected momentarily to snatch it from its base, and people were beginning to get the furniture away before the shock came. For a moment Mr. Munro lay on the grass, unable to resume his exertions. He had worked from three in