The drinking
water in the pitcher on the table was enough to put an end to it.
"It's hardly large enough to bother to put out," exclaimed Mr. Schuler,
"if it weren't that the chimney seems to be so shaken that the flames
might work through somewhere and set fire to the woodwork."
"There's no doubt about something serious having happened to the
chimney," and Mrs. Schuler stooped and pushed back three or four bricks
that had tumbled forward on to the hearth.
"The back is cracked," she announced from her knees. "With that big
crack on the kitchen side I rather think Moya had better use the oil
stove until Mr. Emerson can send a bricklayer to examine the chimney."
"Everything but this seems all right here; you'd better go up and try
to calm the women," advised Mr. Schuler.
The wind storm was dying down and the inmates of Rose House were
becoming quieter as the din outside moderated. The Matron went from
room to room bringing comfort and courage as her candle shone upon one
frightened face after another.
"It's all over; there's nothing to be afraid of," she said over and
over again. Only to Moya did she tell what had happened to the
chimney, so that she might prepare breakfast on the oil stove.
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