Beautiful Joe - Marshall Saunders (the reading strategies book .TXT) 📗

to go

up this, when in front of me I heard such a wailing, piercing noise,

that it made me shudder and stand still. The Italian's animals were

going to be burned up and they were calling to their master to come and

let them out. Their voices sounded like the voices of children in mortal

pain. I could not stand it. I was seized with such an awful horror of

the fire, that I turned and ran, feeling so thankful that I was not in

As I got into the street I stumbled over something. It was a large

bird--a parrot, and at first I thought it was Bella. Then I remembered

hearing Jack say that the Italian had a parrot. It was not dead, but

seemed stupid with the smoke. I seized it in my mouth, and ran and laid

it at Mr. Morris's feet. He wrapped it in his handkerchief, and laid it

beside him.

 

I sat, and trembled, and did not leave him again. I shall never forget

that dreadful night. It seemed as if we were there for hours, but in

reality it was only a short time. The hotel soon got to be all red

flames, and there was very little smoke. The inside of the building had

burned away, and nothing more could be gotten out. The firemen and all

the people drew back, and there was no noise. Everybody stood gazing

silently at the flames. A man stepped quietly up to Mr. Morris, and

looking at him, I saw that it was Mr. Montague. He was usually a

well-dressed man, with a kind face, and a head of thick, grayish-brown

hair. Now his face was black and grimy, his hair was burnt from the

front of his head, and his clothes were half torn from his back. Mr.

Morris sprang up when he saw him, and said, "Where is your wife?"

 

The gentleman did not say a word, but pointed to the burning building.

"Impossible!" cried Mr. Morris. "Is there no mistake? Your beautiful

young wife, Montague. Can it be so?" Mr. Morris was trembling from head

to foot.

 

"It is true," said Mr. Montague, quietly. "Give me the boy." Charlie had

fainted again, and his father took him in his arms, and turned away.

 

"Montague!" cried Mr. Morris, "my heart is sore for you. Can I do

nothing?"

 

"No, thank you," said the gentleman, without turning around; but there

was more anguish in his voice than in Mr. Morris's, and though I am only

a dog, I knew that his heart was breaking.

 

 

 

 

 

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CHAPTER XXXV (BILLY AND THE ITALIAN)

Mr. Morris stayed no longer. He followed Mr. Montague along the sidewalk

a little way, and then exchanged a few hurried words with some men who

were standing near, and hastened home through streets that seemed dark

and dull after the splendor of the fire. Though it was still the middle

of the night, Mrs. Morris was up and dressed and waiting for him. She

opened the hall door with one hand and held a candle in the other. I

felt frightened and miserable, and didn't want to leave Mr. Morris, so I

crept in after him.

 

"Don't make a noise," said Mrs. Morris. "Laura and the boys are

sleeping, and I thought it better not to wake them. It has been a

terrible fire, hasn't it? Was it the hotel?" Mr. Morris threw himself

into a chair and covered his face with his hands.

 

"Speak to me, William!" said Mrs. Morris, in a startled tone. "You are

not hurt, are you?" and she put her candle on the table and came and sat

down beside him.

 

He dropped his hands from his face, and tears were running down his

cheeks. "Ten lives lost," he said; "among them Mrs. Montague."

 

Mrs. Morris looked horrified, and gave a little cry, "William, it can't

be so!"

 

It seemed as if Mr. Morris could not sit still. He got up and walked to

and fro on the floor. "It was an awful scene, Margaret. I never wish to

look upon the like again. Do you remember how I protested against the

building of that deathtrap? Look at the wide, open streets around it,

and yet they persisted in running it up to the sky. God will require an

account of those deaths at the hands of the men who put up that

building. It is terrible--this disregard of human lives. To think of

that delicate woman and her death agony." He threw himself in a chair

and buried his face in his hands.

 

"Where was she? How did it happen? Was her husband saved, and Charlie?"

said Mrs. Morris, in a broken voice.

 

"Yes; Charlie and Mr. Montague are safe. Charlie will recover from it.

Montague's life is done. You know his love for his wife. Oh, Margaret!

when will men cease to be fools? What does the Lord think of them when

they say, 'Am I my brother's keeper?' And the other poor creatures

burned to death--their lives are as precious in his sight as Mrs.

Montague's."

 

Mr. Morris looked so weak and ill that Mrs. Morris, like a sensible

woman, questioned him no further, but made a fire and got him some hot

tea.

 

Then she made him lie down on the sofa, and she sat by him till

day-break, when she persuaded him to go to bed. I followed her about,

and kept touching her dress with my nose. It seemed so good to me to

have this pleasant home after all the misery I had seen that night. Once

she stopped and took my head between her hands, "Dear old Joe," she

said, tearfully, "this a suffering world. It's well there's a better one

beyond it."

 

In the morning the boys went down town before breakfast and learned all

about the fire. It started in the top story of the hotel, in the room of

some fast young men, who were sitting up late playing cards. They had

smuggled wine into their room and had been drinking till they were

stupid. One of them upset the lamp, and when the flames began to spread

so that they could not extinguish them, instead of rousing some one near

them, they rushed downstairs to get some one there to come up and help

them put out the fire. When they returned with some of the hotel people,

they found that the flames had spread from their room, which was in an

"L" at the back of the house, to the front part, where Mrs. Montague's

room was, and where the housemaids belonging to the hotel slept. By this

time Mr. Montague had gotten upstairs; but he found the passageway to

his wife's room so full of flames and smoke, that, though he tried again

and again to force his way through, he could not. He disappeared for a

time, then he came to Mr. Morris and got his boy, and took him to some

rooms over his bank, and shut himself up with him.

 

For some days he would let no one in; then he came out with the look of

an old man on his face, and his hair as white as snow, and went out to

his beautiful house in the outskirts of the town.

 

Nearly all the horses belonging to the hotel were burned. A few were

gotten out by having blankets put over their heads, but the most of them

were so terrified that they would not stir.

 

The Morris boys said that they found the old Italian sitting on an empty

box, looking at the smoking ruins of the hotel. His head was hanging on

his breast, and his eyes were full of tears. His ponies were burned up,

he said, and the gander, and the monkeys, and the goats, and his

wonderful performing dogs. He had only his birds left, and he was a

ruined man. He had toiled all his life to get this troupe of trained

animals together, and now they were swept from him. It was cruel and

wicked, and he wished he could die. The canaries, and pigeons, and

doves, the hotel people had allowed him to take to his room, and they

were safe. The parrot was lost--an educated parrot that could answer

forty questions, and, among other things, could take a watch and tell

the time of day.

 

Jack Morris told him that they had it safe at home, and that it was very

much alive, quarreling furiously with his parrot Bella. The old man's

face brightened at this, and then Jack and Carl, finding that he had had

no breakfast, went off to a restaurant near by, and got him some steak

and coffee. The Italian was very grateful, and as he ate, Jack said the

tears ran into his coffee cup. He told them how much he loved his

animals, and, how it "made ze heart bitter to hear zem crying to him to

deliver zem from ze raging fire."

 

The boys came home, and got their breakfast and went to school. Miss

Laura did not go out. She sat all day with a very quiet, pained face.

She could neither read nor sew, and Mr. and Mrs. Morris were just as

unsettled. They talked about the fire in low tones, and I could see that

they felt more sad about Mrs. Montague's death than if she had died in

an ordinary way. Her dear little canary, Barry, died with her. She would

never be separated from him, and his cage had been taken up to the top

of the hotel with her. He probably died an easier death than his poor

mistress. Charley's dog escaped, but was so frightened that he ran out

to their house, outside the town.

 

At tea time, Mr. Morris went down town to see that the Italian got a

comfortable place for the night. When he came back, he said that he had

found out that the Italian was by no means so old a man as he looked,

and that he had talked to him about raising a sum of money for him among

the Fairport people, till he had become quite cheerful, and said that if

Mr. Morris would do that, he would try to gather another troupe of

animals together and train them.

 

"Now, what can we do for this Italian?" asked Mrs. Morris. "We can't

give him much money, but we might let him have one or two of our pets.

There's Billy, he's a bright, little dog, and not two years old yet. He

could teach him anything."

 

There was a blank silence among the Morris children. Billy was such a

gentle, lovable, little dog, that he was a favorite with every one in

the house. "I suppose we ought to do it," said Miss Laura, at last; "but

how can we give him up?"

 

There was a good deal of discussion, but the end of it was that Billy

was given to the Italian. He came up to get him, and was very grateful,

and made a great many bows, holding his hat in his hand. Billy took to

him at once, and the Italian spoke so kindly to him, that we knew he

would have a good master. Mr. Morris got quite a large sum of money for

him, and when he handed it to him, the poor man was so pleased that he

kissed his hand, and promised to send frequent word as to Billy's

progress and welfare.

 

 

 

 

 

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