myself cheerfully. Having finished my repast, I rekindled my fire for light, and, whilst I was revising the notes of my past day's journey, I was suddenly roused with a noise behind me toward the mainland. I sprang up on my feet, and, listening, I distinctly heard some creature wading in the water of the isthmus. I seized my gun and went cautiously from my camp, directing my steps. towards the noise: when I had advanced about thirty yards, I halted behind a coppice of orange-trees, and soon perceived two very large bears, which had made their way through the water, and had landed in the grove, about one hundred yards' distance from me, and were advancing towards me. I waited until they were within thirty yards of me; they there began to snuff and look towards my camp: I snapped my piece, but it flashed, on which they both turned about and galloped off, plunging through the water and swamp, never halting, as I suppose, until they reached fast land, as I could hear them leaping and plunging a long time. They did not presume to return. again, nor was I molested by any other creature, except being occasionally awakened by the whooping of owls, screaming of bitterns, or the wood-rats running amongst the leaves.

LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA IN 1800.

JOHN B. McMASTER.

[Of late historical works there are none which have attracted more attention, or have been more favorably received, than the "History of the People of the United States," by John Bach McMaster. The two volumes of this work so far issued are full of those minute details of social and industrial conditions, and matters of popular interest, which

man.

Mr.

readers now demand as an essential part of all true history. McMaster was born in Brooklyn, New York, in 1852. Since 1883 he has been professor of history in the University of Pennsylvania.] THE law then required every householder to be a fireHis name might not appear on the rolls of any of the fire-companies, he might not help to drag through the streets the lumbering tank which served as a fire-engine, but he must at least have in his hall-pantry, or beneath the stairs, or hanging up behind his shop door, four leathern buckets inscribed with his name, and a huge bag of canvas or of duck. Then, if he were aroused at the dead of night by the cry of fire and the clanging of every church-bell in the town, he seized his buckets and his bag, and, while his wife put a lighted candle in the window to illuminate the street, set off for the fire. The smoke or the flame was his guide, for the custom of fixing the place of the fire by a number of strokes on a bell had not yet come in. When at last he arrived at the scene he found there no idle spectators. Each one was busy. Some hurried into the building and filled their sacks with such movable goods as came nearest to hand. Some joined the line that stretched away to the water, and helped to pass the full buckets to those who stood by the flames. Others took posts in a second line, down which the empty pails were hastened to the pump. The house would often be half consumed when the shouting made known that the engine had come. It was merely a pump mounted over a tank. Into the tank the water from the buckets was poured, and pumped thence by the efforts of a dozen men. No such thing as a suction-hose was seen in Philadelphia till 1794. A year later one was made which became the wonder of the city. The length was one hundred and sixty feet. The material was canvas, and, to guard against decay, was carefully steeped in brine.

The fire-buckets, it was now thought, should be larger, and a motion to that effect was made in the Common Council. But when it was known that the new buckets, if ordered, must hold ten quarts, the people protested. Ten quarts would weigh twenty pounds, and the bucket five pounds more. This was too much; for, as everybody knew, the lines at a fire were often made up of boys and lads not used to passing heavy weights. Eight quarts was enough. Much could also be accomplished by cutting the city into fire-wards and giving a different color to the buckets of each ward. They could then be quickly sorted when the fire was put out. At New London five firewardens took charge of the engines and all who aided in putting out fires. To disobey a warden's order was to incur a fine of one pound. If a good leathern bucket was not kept hanging in some convenient place in the house, and shown to the warden when he called, six shillings a month was exacted as punishment. At New York, however, it was long before the buckets gave way to the hose. There, if a householder were old, or feeble, or rich, and not disposed to quit a warm bed to carry his buckets to the fire, he was expected at least to send them by his servant or his slave. When the flames had been extinguished, the buckets were left in the street, to be sought out and brought home again by their owners. If the constables performed this duty, the corporation exacted a six-shilling fine for each pail. This was thought excessive, and caused much murmuring and discontent. Some people undoubtedly, it was said, were careless in looking for their buckets after a fire. These could easily be made diligent by a small fine. A great one was a strong temptation to the constables to hide away the buckets to get the reward. Others, again, having come down the line empty, were tossed into the river so carelessly as to fill and sink in

stantly. Innocent people were thus put to needless expense. Let some one be appointed and paid to fill the buckets properly. While so disagreeable a part was voluntary, it was very hard to find a man to do it well. It would be wise, also, to renew the old custom of inspecting chimneys, stoves, and ash-houses. They were fruitful sources of fire.

That nothing should be left undone that could lessen the chances of destruction by fire was most important. Few buildings and little property were at that time insured. The oldest company in New York had existed but twelve years. Forty-five years had not gone by since the first fire-insurance policy in America began to run. Early in February, 1752, a notice came out in the Pennsylvania Gazette inviting such prudent citizens of Philadelphia as wished to insure their houses from loss by fire, to meet at the court-house. There, every seventh day, subscriptions would be taken till the thirteenth of April. Many came, and, on the April day named in the notice, chose twelve directors and a treasurer. At the head of the poll stood Benjamin Franklin. He has, therefore, often been supposed to have founded the Philadelphia Contributorship for the Insurance of Houses from Loss by Fire. But the father of fire-insurance in the United States is, beyond a doubt, John Smith. The contributors took risks in Philadelphia, and in so much of the country as lay within ten miles of the town. The rate was twenty shillings on a hundred pounds. The policy was for seven years. The premium was in the nature of a loan. Every man who insured his dwelling or his shop left a few shillings with the treasurer, had his property surveyed, and in a week's time, if all went well, deposited the premium. The contributors then nailed their "mark" to the front of his building. When the seven years were out, the money was

returned without interest, or the insurance renewed. It was announced, however, that the company would take no risks on houses surrounded by shade-trees. They interfered with the use of buckets, and the huge syringe which, at that time, every man carried to the fire with his pail. A rival, therefore, started up, took these dangerous risks, and assumed as the mark it fastened to patrons' houses the image of a green tree.

The houses thus covered by insurance were, in general, of a comfortable but unpretentious sort. They were all alike, both without and within, and each had on the lower floor two connecting rooms. If the owner were a tradesman, the front room was his shop. If he were a lawyer, it was his office. If a doctor, it was there he saw his patients, compounded his prescriptions, and kept his drugs; for only the great practitioners then sent their patients to the apothecary. The rear room was for family use. There they met at meal-time, and in the evening there they sat and drank tea. Above-stairs the front room extended across the whole house. People of fashion spoke of it as the tea-room or the drawing-room; but among those who affected no fashion it passed by the name of parlor. In it the tea-parties by invitation were held. On such occasions the hostess alone sat at the table. The guests were scattered about the room, and to them the servants brought tea and rusks and cake, and sometimes fruit and wine. When the gathering was less formal, when some friends or neighbors, as the custom was, had come in unbidden to tea, the little room behind the office or the shop was used. Then all sat about the long table, and, tea over, listened to music and songs. Every man and woman who had even a fair voice was in turn called on to sing. The others, it was expected, could at least play. Among instruments the German flute was a favorite, and for women the four