Mrs. Anderson never forgot a detail of what happened that afternoon,
and she soon became letter-perfect in her often-repeated statement
of the essential facts. She told and retold her story word for word
like a recitation learned by heart, without alteration; except as she
allowed herself from time to time to stress a little more heavily her
own importance as the only witness who had seen everything, to insist
yet more vehemently on her absolute freedom from responsibility for the
catastrophe.
“It was icy that afternoon, you know how it had thawed in the morning
and then turned cold, and I was real nervous about slipping. I’m not so
steady on my feet as I was fifty years ago and when I saw Mrs. Knapp
putting on her things to leave the Guild meeting I said to her, ‘Mrs.
Knapp,’ I said, ‘won’t you let me go along with you and take your arm
over the icy places? I’m real nervous about slipping,’ I said. And she
said, ‘Yes, of course,’ and we started out and I felt so relieved to
have her to hold to. She’s the kind you couldn’t imagine slipping, you
know, the kind you’d _want_ to take her arm over hard places. She’s a
wonderful woman, Mrs. Knapp is. I always said so even before all this
happened. There’s nothing she can’t do. You ought to see the parlor
furniture she recovered with her own hands, as good as any upholsterer
you ever saw. And then didn’t her Henry pester her to let him have a
dog, and a _white_ dog at that! Of course she didn’t let him--you know
how a white dog’s hairs will show. When I was a girl I remember my
Aunt Esther had a white dog--but I was telling you about how we first
saw the fire. We had just turned the corner by Wertheimer’s and I was
looking down to pick my way, and Mrs. Knapp said, ‘Good gracious, Mrs.
Anderson, what’s that on your roof?’ I looked quick but I couldn’t see
anything, and she said, ‘It looks like a--oh, yes, I see, a flame right
by your chimney.’
“And then I knew it must be so, for that end chimney of mine had had a
crack in it for ever so long, and I’d tried and _tried_ to get a mason
to come, but you know how they hate a little tinkering repair job, and
anyhow for a _woman_! Well, Mrs. Knapp she started on a run for her
house to telephone the fire department and I scuffled along as fast as
I could for fear of slipping. I wasn’t anywhere near my front walk yet
when Mr. Knapp came running out from their house, bareheaded in all
that cold with a pail in each hand. He could see me coming along slow
and he hollered to me, ‘Where’s your long ladder, Mrs. Anderson?’ And
I hollered back, ‘It’s hung up under the eaves of the barn, but don’t
you go trying to climb up that steep icy roof, Mr. Knapp! You’ll break
your neck if you do!’ I said to him just as I’m saying to you. I did my
_best_ to keep him from it! I feel bad enough without that. And I give
you my word I hollered to him just as I told you, ‘Don’t you go trying
to climb up that steep icy roof, Mr. Knapp. You’ll break your neck if
you do!’ I said.
“He didn’t say anything back so I don’t know whether he heard me or
not, though I hollered at the top of my voice, I promise you. He ran
around through my back yard and I after him, only I had to go slow on
account of the ice, and before I turned the corner of the house, I
heard somebody yelling my name back of me, ‘Mrs. Anderson! Come and
let us in quick! Your house is on fire!’ It was Mr. Emmet and his
two boys from across the street. They had axes and they wanted me to
let them in and up attic because they thought they could get at it
from the inside. It seems they had a fire once in their chimney that
they--well, while I was trying to get my latch-key in the keyhole--you
can just better believe that by that time I was so mixed up I didn’t
know which end my head was on, and Mr. Emmet had to take the key away
and open the door himself--that was after the fire engine drove up
and you know what a terrible clatter they always make, and I was wild
about their getting out their big hose because my sitting room ceiling
had just been replastered and I was afraid the water would run down and
spoil it, and by that time anyhow I had something else to worry about,
for all creation was there, the way they do, you know, run wherever
the fire engine goes, more men and boys than you ever _saw_! Awful
tough-looking too, lots of them, from those low-down tenement houses
near the tracks.... My, wasn’t I glad to see Mrs. Knapp coming back!
She’s a master hand for managing things. She shooed all those hoodlums
out double-quick. They were crowding right in after Mr. Emmet, bold as
brass. I tell you there don’t anybody stay long when _she_ tells ’em
to go. And then she headed off the firemen from turning on their hose
till some of them had gone up attic to see how the Emmets were getting
along, and some others had gone around back to see what Mr. Knapp was
up to. She ran upstairs with them to the attic, and I went out on the
porch and leaned around to see if I could make out what they were doing
back of the house--and then--oh, then--I’ll never forget it to my dying
day! I saw a couple of firemen come around from the back of the house
carrying something. I couldn’t see what it was, it was so dark, but
the way they carried it, the way they stepped--when you’re as old as I
am, and have seen as many dead people ... you _know_!
“I screamed out at them, ‘Oh, oh, oh, what is it? What has happened?’
But I knew before they said a word. One of them said, ‘It’s Mr. Knapp.
Don’t let Mrs. Knapp know till we can get the body over to the house!’
And the other one said, ‘He must have fallen off the roof and broken
his back.’”
PART TWO