What a Babel of voices it was, everybody directing everybody else, and everybody doing everything wrong! When all was prepared, someone applied a match to the sombre pile.

A fiery tongue thrust itself out here and there, then suddenly the whole fabric burst into flames, blazing and crackling beautifully.

This was a signal for the boys to join hands and dance around the burning barrels, which they did shouting like mad creatures.

When the fire had burnt down a little, fresh staves were brought and heaped on the pyre.

In the excitement of the moment I forgot my tingling palms, and found myself in the thick of the carousal.
Before we were half ready, our combustible material was expended, and a disheartening kind of darkness settled down upon us.