PHIL KELSEV’S FIREWORKS. 69

the windows, and a cry of “Fire!” r rans
sharply through the house.

“Let the mill burn!” said the malcon-
tents. ;

But Ethan Murray was on the platform
and was speaking in public for the first
time in his life.

“Men,” he said, “the mill has given us
and our families bread and shelter for
many years. We owe it something. Let
us save it. We are honest men; don’t
let the capitalists say we are incendi-
aries,”

And they ad save it. Bucket after
bucket of water fell upon the blazing
cotton. Men plied their axes upon burn-
ing looms and casements, and every hose
in the factory was put into active service.

It was late at night when the last spark
of this famous bonfire was extinguished.
The men and boys who had labored so