In a certain quarter of the town there is so much reference to the Buntingford Fire Engine that a few remarks here may satisfy a number of persons that Mrs Merryweather, as the engine has come to be affectionately known, is very well indeed.
The old lady looks quite smart in her freshly varnished coat, which has been edged with jet black. (Not a sign of mourning; oh, no).
A recent test showed that the pump was in good working order, and that everything was as good in many respects as it was in the day when the old engine was doing duty in London for the London Fire Brigade.
A new concrete floor has been put down in the engine house, and everything is now spick and span.
There is one eyesore. On the freshly-painted door the unguided hand of some mischievous schoolboy has written "B.F.B." - Buntingford Froth Blowers.
It is understood that an official denial of this accusation is to be issued by the Brigade.
At any rate, Mrs Merryweather says she has not blown much froth lately.
There is some consolation in that.
Think of the waste!!!
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