She did not seem to like trying to jump in, but there seemed no way
for getting it to stop for a minute; she looked helplessly around;
then she had another look at it. The more she looked the less she
liked it, and finally she gave up the idea of visiting the upper
floors of the building, and went sorrowfully away.
[Illustration: The lift in the Town Hall at Copenhagen is a continuous
moving one--you have to jump in or out of it pretty smartly. Old Lady:
"Shall I venture?"]
The Scouts in Copenhagen have been trained in first aid work by a
First Aid Corps which exists in that city.
The Danish First Aid Corps is very much like our Fire Brigade. At the
first aid station are motor-cars fitted up with things needed for
almost every kind of accident, and they are ready to turn out at any
moment that their services may be required. Their office is on the
telephone with every police station, and when they get a call to an
accident, the motor, with all appliances, leaves the station within
thirty seconds of the alarm.
When I was there the alarm came that a man had been run over by a
tramcar in Market Street.
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