And, sure enough, the ducks’ house was on fire, and it wasn’t a burglar at all; no sir!  Whether the moon was so hot that it caused the fire, or whether it was sparks from grandfather’s pipe, I can’t say, but anyhow, the house was on fire, and it was burning fiercely.

“Oh dear!  Oh dear!” cried Aunt Lettie again.  And Mamma Wibblewobble cried just the same, too.  Then they all ran and jumped out of the second-story window, but it didn’t hurt them, for they could fly a little bit, you know, and they came down like balloons.  That is all but Aunt Lettie, and she was used to jumping, so she came down like a lot of dishes falling off the table.

Well, you should have seen that house burn!  Oh, it was a dreadful sight.  All the other ducks and the geese and the chickens gathered around.  The rooster crowed the alarm.  Box number twenty-one it was, but of course there were no engines to come and put out the fire.

“Oh, we must save the house!” shouted Papa Wibblewobble.

“Everybody bring water from the pond and throw it on the fire!” cried Aunt Lettie, and she ran down and filled her two horns, which she carried on her head.  The horns were hollow and had the tops sawed off, so she could fill them quickly and pour out the water just as easily.  She splashed some water on the fire, but it didn’t do much good.  Then Lulu and Alice and Jimmie, they filled their bills with water and threw it on the blaze, but that didn’t do much good.

No, sad to tell, all the water the ducks and the geese and Aunt Lettie could carry, to say nothing of the rooster who couldn’t bring much, because he stopped to crow every now and then—­all this water didn’t do a bit of good, and the house was burning faster and faster.

Then, what do you think happened?  Why, all at once there came running up old Nero, the big, shaggy, yellow dog, who was so old and kind that he would never hurt any one.  Yes, he ran right up and called out: 

“Make way, if you please.  I will put out that fire!”

So he ran down into the pond as fast as he could run and soaked himself in the water.  Then he ran up close to the fire and shook himself hard, and the drops of water scattered from his shaggy sides all over the blaze, just like a rain storm.  And the fire was partly out.

Then he ran down again and got all wet and shook himself, and scattered some more water over the fire.  And that fire was pretty nearly out.

Then for the third time that dog, Nero, ran down into the water and got all soaking wet, and scattered the drops over the blaze, like two showers and a half.  And then that fire was all completely out!  Oh, wasn’t he a good dog, though?

Well, the house wasn’t burned so much after all, and the ducks could go back into it.  And maybe they weren’t thankful to Nero, but he only said: 

“Ah, you should have watched me gnaw bones when I was a young dog.  That was a sight worth seeing.”  But I think it was great for him to put out the fire, don’t you?  Now, to-morrow night’s story, providing my automobile doesn’t hit a balloon, will be about how the fairy prince was caught.