Firemen's Favorite

It was a dull evening for Fire Engine Company No. 9, one of those lazy April evenings in Washington when you can smell the park cherry blossoms all over town and a fireman's life is just one repression after another. The men of Number Nine sat in their chairs mooning, or wishing some one knew a funny story newer than the one about red suspenders. Nobody got excited when--Dang-galang! --an alarm came in.

"Ho hum. Probably just another baby playing with matches," thought the men of Number Nine as they reached for their coats and eased down the pole.

But as Engine No. 9 thundered out of its mechanical stable, the faces of the men of Number Nine were illuminated with sudden glee.

"Two thaousan' nine Mass Avenue," exulted the man on the bouncing tail-step.

And sure enough, dashing through the sleepy streets, Engine No. 9 snorted up to No. 2009 Massachusetts Avenue, a modest little French-style mansion of Indiana limestone, with festive lights. There, just as on another night last January (TIME, Jan. 16), stood a pink-cheeked, slightly rotund little man with a perky mustache and amusing eyes.

As in January, the trouble was soon put right. Last time it was a furnace pipe "gone flooey;" this time it was a blazing chimney. And, as in January, the men of Number Nine were well rewarded for their labors. Doffing helmets, wiping hands on shirt, they soon were regaled with coffee, sandwiches, perfectos, etc., etc., not to mention genial wisecracks and charming smiles, all served with a maximum of relish after the excitement by perhaps the most persuasive host and hostess in all U. S. politics--Speaker of the House and Mrs. Nicholas Longworth.