GRANDFATHER LICKSHINGLE DESCRIBES THE FIRE FIEND.

Waikato Times, Volume XIII, Issue 1051, 20 March 1879, Page 3

GRANDFATHER LICKSHINGLE DESCRIBES THE FIRE FIEND.

Grandfather Liokshinglb broke , the silence yesterday evening as i follows : — 1 tl I tell you what it is, children, ' there's no use talkin', The newspaper men of to-day can't sling ink witb their grandfathers. They'ro degeneratin'. This oountry sees no graphic writin' like it did when your grandfather was riding the editorial tripod like a witch astride the gale. I know of no place that affords a better field for descriptive writin* than these very oil regions. Why, the fires you have here can't be beat — excepti n', of course, beyond the tomb ' When I bear one of these conflagra- . tions, I just ache to take my own , graphic style." i Grandfather closed his eyes, swayed to and fro on his easy ohair, while his face glowed with enthusiusm. He seemed to be m a trans* port of joy. " Bring forth my good gray quill," he said, " and let me paint the burnin' town." One of the children said he thought grandfather was going to have a fit ; father said he was only m the newspaper business m his imagination, at a salary <r^**^-thousand dollars a week, but woulu r^^" 1^ all right. " 'Tis night. Fire ! fire ! fire !" said grandfather, rapidly tracing a sheet of imnwginary paper with a goosequill of the mind. " Fire 1 fire ! fire ! and the affrighted wives took up the cry. The Fire Fiend, with his sword of flame, was seen leapin' from the back window of a bake shop, breathin' smoke and forked lightnin* from his nostrils. In an instant the sleeping oity was out on the floor, barkin' its shins on ohairs an* things ' m a mad hunt after its pantaloons. Hush ! hark I The fire Fiend rushes l on and on like a war horse, bavin' • destruction m its trail. Look! he ' soales the side of yon oorner grocery, 1 even as a kitchen maid would scale a } fish, an' with his fiery, forked tongue, r licks the paint often the buildin.' 3 See ! like the hungry holocaust that J he is, he is lickin' up the sig«, * Salt f mackerel, bacon, flour, feed, an' pro- , visions,' aa if be hadn't tasted a bite y for a month. See him leap to the I eaves of my lady's bower, an' gorge

himself on the gingerbread work of the cornices. Now he hurls his body through the windows of yonder residence, ransacks the premises, an' escapes like a rocket through the roof. Ho turns somersaults from housetop to housetop, knocks over chimney pots, dances a jig on the hot shingles, like the boy, on the burnin' deck, an' without as much as a ' look out behiad' rains a shower of sparks npon the heads of the panic-stricken populace. But see him now ! He spits upon his oalloused hands an' scoots up the liberty pole like a cat up an apple tree. Up! up! up! Higher ! higher ! Higher ! Higher and yet higher ; Hiie a hall ! Higher than the price of butter, untill now with one fiery foot he tiptoes it upon the topmost tip, the while he flings his arms of flame about him like; a village lawyer making a Fourth of |July oration. Now he places a thumb to his nose, and with extended fingers describes a circle m the face of the man m the moon, while he laps his forked tongue about the American flag and swallows it before a loyal people can shoot him on the spot." — « Danbury News.'