Who ever heard of such a thing!" And Atkins, watching the ludicrous
spectacle from his field, became almost as weak from laughter as Ducklow
was from the effects of fear.

At length Ducklow succeeded in checking the old mare's speed and in
turning her about. It was necessary to drive back for his hat. By this
time he could hear a chorus of shouts, "Fire! fire! fire!" over the
hill. He had aroused the neighbors as he passed, and now they were
flocking to extinguish the flames.

"A false alarm! a false alarm!" said Ducklow, looking marvelously
sheepish, as he met them. "Nothing but Atkins's brush-heap!"

"Seems to me you ought to have found that out 'fore you raised all
creation with your yells!" said one hyperbolical fellow. "You looked
like the Flying Dutchman! This your hat? I thought 'twas a dead cat in
the road. No fire! no fire!"--turning back to his comrades,--"only one
of Ducklow's jokes."

Nevertheless, two or three boys there were who would not be convinced,
but continued to leap up, swing their caps, and scream "Fire!" against
all remonstrance. Ducklow did not wait to enter his explanations, but,
turning the old mare about again, drove home amid the laughter of the
by-standers and the screams of the misguided youngsters. As he
approached the house, he met Taddy rushing wildly up the street.

"Thaddeus! Thaddeus! Where ye goin', Thaddeus?"

"Goin' to the fire!" cried Taddy.