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VOL. (50.
REPEATING 118 ELF.
But Instead of History It Was
Romance.
'Close the shutters, Kitty. What a
terrible night it is, to be sure. The
rain is coming down in Hoods.'
A barrack ground, stilt and ugly un
der the most favorable circumstances,
looking like a desert in the wind and
rain, was just visible.
'Why, Aunt Bell,* said the girl,paus
ing with one band on the shutter, 'here
is a name scratched oil this pane of
glass. I never noticed it till this min
ute.' <
'What is the name ?' asked the old
lady, half asleep by the fire.
.' 'Kinloeh, Scots Greys, I*lo,' * read
the young girl, 'and then 'Kitty' writ
ten very badly just below.'
'Kinlock ! Kitty !' said Aunt Bell,
starting up with sudden interest.
'Why, that must be the same man !'
Then she sank back again, murmuring:
'Ah, Kitty, there was loye in those
days, and romance, too.'
'ls there no loye now ?' said Kitty,
coming to her aunt's side and kneeling
down on the hearth lug.
The ruddy llmies and glow irom the
fire lit up the girl's chestnut hair, fair
complexion, and bright hazel eyes.
Aunt Bell gazed lovingly down at the
piquant little face and said :
'Now and again we meet some of
the right kind, but would you like to
bear the story of that namesake of
yours, Kitty ?'
'Very much.'
'Well, fifty years ago, as you know,
I was a girl of sixteen, and was invited
to spend the summer mouths with my
aunt, who then had one of the fiqest
houses in this county of Kildare.
'Several regiments were stationed at
the camp and at a neighboring village,
so you may imagine the girls of the
party and I anticipated a gay time.
Oh, those summer months ! I grow
young again as I think of them ! The
rides across the Curragh in the fresh
morning air, when in parties of ten or
fifteen we would gallop for miles on
the stretches of breezy Lurf ; the hand
some officers who played hide-and seek
with us in the evening hours all oyer
the big house, starting out of corners
and chasing us breathlessly down the
slippery oaken corridors. Then, tired
out, we would stroll into the gardeo,
and under the trees there would be
songs, flirtations and whispered confi
dences and promises made by the score
and neyer fulfilled. What a mad mer
ry time it was ! The merriest and
handsomest of all was a young Scotch
Lieutenant. Kinloeh Kinloeh. llis
mother was Irish, aud had bequeathed
him her beauty and propensity for jo
king.
'And now for Kitty, the heroine.
She was the daughter of a gardener
who lived about a mile from my aunt's
house, and ot all the distractingly pret
ty girls that have made men do silly
things lam sure Kilty was one of the
prettiest. I can't do her justice ; but
I can tell you she had the Irish blue
eye; a complexion like mila, hair of
the silkiest chestnut, curling in rings
all over her brow, and a slender, up
right figure, the envy of all our girls.
One day, as a large party of us were
talking under the trees, Kitty passed
us with a basket of fi uit. Kinloeh for
the first timo noticed the girl, and
seemed struck dumb with amazement.
He stood at a little distance, and kept
bis eyes fixed on her. It was love from
that very moment, and every one notic
ed it. All the young men swarmed a
bout the girl's lasket and began help
ing themselves. She expostulated, but
they put her off. Said one :
' 'Sure, Kitty, and you would like us
to have the best. I'll be bouud.'
'Another said : 'Mahone, one kiss
from that cheek with the flush of the
peach upon it will save you from these
rascally thieves, for I will fight them
all for such a favor.'
'But Kitty would not be bribed, and
seemed about to resign Herself to the
lose of her fruit, when Kinloeh shoul
dered his way into the group, and giv
ing the last speaker a friendly push,
cried: 'Leaye the girl alone, Grant,
please.' Then he tumid to Kitty, say
ing : 'lt is very heavy for your little
arms, and there will come no one steal
ing the fruit now, I'm thinking.*
* 'Thank you,' said Kitty, gratefully,
and walked along by hi 3 side.
' 'That is the first time I have seeu
my lady allow any one to fetch and
carry for her,' my brother said.
' 'There is no gainsaying Kinloeh.
then, for he always gets his own way
in what he wants, Harry,' I said.
4 'Especially when it has to do with
pretty girls.' sneered Grant.
' 'Treason I' we all shouted in a
breath. 'Kinloeh is the same to us all. T
' 'Of course ; hut are you not all
pretty girls ?' said Grant.
'We laughed, and did not deny the
soft impeachment ; and so the mo
mentary breach was healed. That was
MILLIIEIM, PA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 1)., 188(5.
the (irst time we noticed Kitty coining
up to our house with her fruit. We
were quite sure nothing we could have
said or done would have prevented her,
but we were not quite so sure about
Kinloeh, who, ever since that little ep
isode, had wandered about like a dis
tressed lover. One day we met Kitty
in a lane, and 1 said to her :
4 4 llow is it you never come our way
now V'
'The girl blushed. Father prefers
to take up the things himself,' she
murmured ; for which painfully ap
parent lib we forgave her.
'The days passed on and Kinloeh,
who had before been the life of our ex
peditions, WAS now generally absent.
Where he had been was evident, for we
often caught a glimpse of chestnut hair
shilling through the trees, or the old
picturesque red shawl draped ovi r Kit
ty's head and shoulders, her round,
dimpled arm appearing just lelow.
Kiuloch's regiment had been ordered
away to another part of Ireland, and
one morning, a few days beforo he was
to go, we begged for his company to a
picnic wo had arranged to have with
oue or two other families.
' 'Thanks very much, but I'm afraid
I shall be too busy.' he said.
• 'Oh, but you must come ! Wo all
eouuted upt n you,' we said.
' 'l3ut, I—l have so many things to
do to-day.'
'Here he stopped and blushed. We
girls were devoured with curiosity, and
some of the men had a perceptible sneer
on their faces.
' *IIe has got to say farewell to his
lady-love,' suggested Philip Grant.
'Kinloeh turned on him with blazing
eyes. We all kept back. They were
like globes of tire.
' 'Confound it, sir, and suppose 1
have ! What is that to you ?' lie
cried.
'We all stared at Philip ; be was very
white, but he shrugged his shoulders
and wisely foreboro to answer. Kin
loch's temper calmed down as rapidly
as it had risen.
' 'I am sorry to disoppoint you, girls,
but I must beg to be excused,' he said
gently ; and bowing, be walked off.
•We watched his upright, manly
figure striding along tilLhe disappeared,
and then we all looked at each other
and sighed.
4 'A clear case,' said oue girl.
' 'Head over heels.'
' 'What will he do ?'
' 'llow can he marry her ?'
' 'Kitty can take care of herself.'
' 'But I'm sure she is in love; she
never has been before.'
' 'lie will go away and forget her.'
' 'He gave his bridle rein a shake.
Said, Adieu forevcnnorc, my love,
Adieu lorevermore.'
' 'Never! Nothing of the kind will
happen. I'm sure be will marry her,'
I said.
'That night Kinloeh made his way
to the gaidener's cottage. Ilis face
was pale, but be bad a determined look
at the corners of His mouth, he carried
his head well thrown back, and stepped
lightly along. Tho girl had just set
her father's supper before him, and had
gone out to rest in the garden and en
joy the still beauties of the night.
The air was fresh and the full moon
was hurrying through the star-spangled
course. The reeds in the neighboring
streams rustled and shivered in ttie
Lreez 4 , and the night moths bumping
against Kitty's white kerchief on their
way to the fatal candle in the window.
The girl's eyes filled with tears.
''Why do you weep, Kitty r" said a
voice at her side.
'The girl buried her face in her
hands and sobbed afresh.
4 'You are going away,' she said.
' 'Y'es, I am going away, but you
will come with me, Kitty, for you love
me,' said Kinloeh.
' 'Come back in ten years, Kinloeh.
I will be true to you and wait till then.
I will try and improve myself—make
myself more worthy of your love.'
' 'Keep as you are, Kitty; remain
unchanged,' said the young man, jeal
ously, 'lest when I come back again I
shall not see in you the last look that 1
iook away with me, my life, my love!'
he murmured, passionately, and then
kissed her sweet brow and mouth, and
folding her in one last embrace he left
her.
'As she went into the cottage a large
moth sailed in before her, flew up into
the alluring brightness of the candle
and dropped dead on the table.
' 'Kitty, my girl,' said the old man,
pointing significantly to the insect,
'don't be as silly as that thing. Its
eyes were dazzled, and it had no
strength to resist the fatal fascination.'
' 'Father, you may trust me,' said
the girl, bending down ai.d kissing the
gray hair.
Here Aunt Bell stooped.
'ls it interesting ? Shall Igo on ?'
'Oh do ! Did he come back ?' said
her niece.
'Well, the years passed on, and the
girl was joked and teased and had
many offers of marriage, but she was
A PAPKU FOR THE HOME CIRCLE
firm and would listen to none. At last
tlie young fellows grew weary of their
fruitless attempt at love-making, aud
the greater part left her alone. A few,
rnore'utikiiul, would ask when she ex
pected her young gentleman home, and
taunted her in cutting speeches and
insinuations, Nine years went by,
and there came the battle of Waterloo,
when officers and men went down to
gether in hundreds. Still no word
from Kinloeh, and Kitty's heart, which
had never failed in its lightness nor her
step in its speed, now sank and falter
ed for the first time.
'Early in tho next year—in fact, on
New Year's night—tho officers gave a
ball, and every girl and young man for
miles around was invited. Girls were
in great demand then, and I went
down to my aunt's house especially for
that night. 1 was anxious to see Kit
ty myself and to find out how the years
had passed ever Her head. You think,
perhaps, twenty-six was rather old to
be called a girl—do you, Kitty. Well,
I felt almost as young as when I was
sixteen.'
'Kate Daly—that was her name
went to help the ladies unshawl them
selves, and to be ready with needle and
thread when the unhappy damsel with
torn skirt or flounce should require her
assistance. She was then twenty
eight, and tho young, girlish beauty
bad developed into the most lovely of
women. Only when her face \va3 at
rest, and you saw the suspicion of an
anxious heart upon it, would you have
guessed her age. She wore a pale, tea
rose-linted gown, with ruffies of lace of
her own making at the neck and
sleeves.
'lt was a wild and stoimy night
without, just such a one as this, but it
only served to enhance the brightness
and animation of tHe scene within.
The dancing of the high-heeled shoes
and the silvery laughter rose higher
than the roar of tho wind, and the
tinkling wine-cups drowneu all sound
of rain. Suddenly there was a lull; we
stopped dancing; a chill blast swept
round us; we turned and saw a silent
figure standing in the doorway.
'He was tall and handsome, but his
large black cloak, carelessly thrown
over His shoulder, was drippling with
the rain and making large puddles on
the floor. llis legs, booted and spurr
ed, were mud up to the hips.
Just at that moment the clock
struck twelve, and the year 1810 had
broken. Some of the nervous girls
screamed and ran behind their part
neis. Was it an apparition ? Was it
an ill oman for the coming year ?
' 'I seem to frighten you, friends.
Does nobody know me?'
'Kitty at that moment was bringing
in a jug of iced claret at another door.
She heard the voice aDd turned round
trembling, with a wild cry.
' 'Kinloeh, Kinloeh, I knew you
would come back !' And amidst a
crash of breaking glass—for alio let the
vessel slip from Her hands—she sprung
to his side, aud disappeared in the
folds of his great cloak.'
'llow splendid, Aunt Bell!' said her
niece, drawing a deep breath; 'hut if
she married him then I don't see why
she should not have done so before.'
'All, but she was a wise girl; she
knew it would test bis constancy, and
prove if he really loved her. A young
man's love at twenty-one —as she knew
so well—would not be bis choice at
thirty-one.'
'What become of them, aunt?'
'Oli, they married and traveled about
a great deal, and finally both died out
in India within a few months of each
other. There was one son, and I be
lieve be is in the army, also. Come,
Kitty, I shall go to bed, and not wait
any longer for your father.'
'There is a new Lieutenant coming
in Mr. Perry's place,' said her niece, as
she bade het good night.
'The young men are not what they
used to be,' sighed the old lady. 'Some
little whipper-snapper, I'll be bound,
with feet that would fit in your slip
pers. Good-night, chlldie!'
Kitty went down-stairs and ponder
ed over the story of the beautiful Kate
Daly and faithful Kinloeh. She went
to the window and undid the shutter.
She pictured to herself the young man
as he came to the window and scratch
ed his name on the glass, and then,
taking the girl's hand in his, slowly
guiding it just below. She leaned in
the shadow of the window seat and
tried to realize each scene in the little
drama. There, ur.der that very door,
stood the tall, black gobed figuie they
had all shrunk away from in the midst
of their mirth.
What! was she dreaming? What
stood there at that moment? A figure
darker than the gloom of the room.
The rain poured in rivers outside, the
wind whistled round the house. The
figure came farther into the room.
She saw by the misty light that he was
a tall man with a dark cloak oyer his
shoulders, booted and spurred, with
mud up to his hips. She felt as if the
whole scone was to be played over
again, but she looked in vain for the
pretty girls wiili their puffed sleeves
and short waists, their (lowing curies
and high-heeled shoes. Kilty, where
was she? And hero alio blushed to her
self m the darkness. There was a Kit
ty, but not that one.
The man came up to the window,
evidently thinking no one was in the
room ; the girl shrank back as the wet
cloak brushed against her cheek.
'Kinloeh !' she said, half doubting
whether the figure would answer, for
she could hardly tell yet whether she
was dreaming or no.
'Who spoke my name ?' tie called
out, glancing round.
'I did,' said Kitty,feeling very abash
ed, almost at his elbow.
lie glanced down, drawing away bis
wet cloak.
'I am sure I beg your pardon; I
thought the room was empty. I must
have come into the wrong quarters.
Arriving so late I must have mistaken
the block. I hope you will forgive
such an intrusion.'
Kitty's castles in the air all fell to
the ground with a crash. llow com
monplace. lie was only the new Lieu
tenant after all ; but he did not appear
the whipper- snapper her aunt bad
prophesied.
'Then you are not Kinloeh ?' she
said, in a disappointed tone.
'My name is Kinloeh,' he answered,
with a pleasant smile.
'My aunt was telling me about this
Kinloeh,' and Kitty tapped the frame
with her finger. 'I will tell you the
story some day if you like ; but you
came into the room just as she said
your namesake did, dressed in the same
way and every thing. But here ! I
suppose you are not even a relation ?'
'lie was my father,' said the young
man, qu'etly ; 'so no wonder we are
something alike.' It was now bis turn
to siy, in a disappointed tone : 'But
your name is not Kitty, I'm sure.'
'Yes, it is,' she said, eageny, then
paused; a sudden rosy flush rushed over
her face. 'At least, no—it is '
But she could not deny it for it was
Kitty.
'These are our namesakes ; shall we
write ours below them, Jvitty ?'
'Some day, perhaps.'
NIAGARA FALLS.
An Apred Couple "Who Don't "Know
Whether They Have Seen
Them or Not.
There was an old couple at the
Third street depot the other day who
had been to Niagara Falls and were
waiting for a train to their home in
tho interior of the State. They just
felt that they had accomplished a big
thing, and were consequently quite
elated. They had scarcely taken seats
in the waiting-room before the old
man turned to a stranger and said .•
'We've jist got back from Niagry
Falls. Powerful sight, them falls are.
Hiu't nuthin' like them fulls in this
hull country.'
'Never heard of 'em,' gruffly replied
the man.
'You didn't! Lor' bless me. but
that's astonishing! Neve heard of
Niagry Falls!'
'Never. What is it anyhow ?'
'Why, it's the biggest lot of water
you ever saw, falling over the awful
lest precipice you ever heard of.
Why, it makes folks shiver tojook at
it.'
'Singular that none of the papers
have ever mentioned it.'
'They haven't ? Why them fails
has bin there for thousands of years.'
'Wasn't it a freshet or a dam broke
loose, or something of that sort V
'No, siree! That water keeps a
pouring and roaring and humming all
the time.'
'Must have been some trick about
it,' carelessly observed the cynic. 'lf
it was a real thing there'd be some
excitement about it. \ou don't
drink V
'Me drink ? I've never drunk a
drop in my life !'
.'Well, it's to bad. Any one who
will swindle an old man like you
ought to be horsewhipped.'
'Swindled ? I)o you purtend there
hain't no Niagry Falls?'
'Never heard of any such thing,'
replied the man, as he got up and left.
'Say, Manner;' replied the old man,
as he turned to his wife after awhile,
'did you hear that V
'Every word.'
'Say, when we git home we'll keep
mum until I see Stebbins and feel
around and see if there is a Niagry
Falls. If we've bin fooled we don't
want to be laded at ; if it's all right
we kin do our blowing when it's safe
aud will count. Don't say Goat Is
land nor Hore'-shoe Falls nor Bridal
Vail to no livin' soul until we find out
whether that ginger ale flew to our
heads, or the show was all right and
wuth the money.'— Detroit Free
Fress.
Terms, SI.OO per Year, in Advance.
A WRECKED CITY.
Havoc of the Earthquake at
Charleston, S. C.
Groat Loss of Lifo—The Destruction
to Property Roughly Estimated
at $5,000,000.
CHARLESTON, S. C., Sept. I.—There
was :i terrible earthquake here last
night at t £0 o'clock. The principal
business portion of the city was destroy
ed and hundreds of persons were ren
dered homeless. Men were frantic,wo
men were beseeching tnercy from the
Almighty and children were in tears.
THE SCENE TIIUILLINGLY DESCUIKED.
The following article was prepared
for publication in the "News" and
"Courier," and is telegraphed almost
in the writer's own words :
Necessarily the description that can
be given of the disaster which has be
fallen our city consists in the narration
of the experiences and observations of
individuals, and, the subject beinir the
same and the experiences of all being
nearly alike, the story told by one care
ful observer may well stand for a hun
dred others, with slight variations.
Probably the best idea that can be had
of the character of the disturbance here
may be obtained from a narration of
the events and scenes of Tuesday night
as they were presented to a single per
son. When engaged in his usual duties
in the second story room of the "News
and Courier" otlice at the time of the
first shock the writer's attention was
vaguely attracted by a sound which
seemed to come from the office below,
and which was supposed for a moment
to be caused by the rapid rolling of a
heavy body, as an iron safe or a heavily
laden truck, oyer the floor. Accompa
nying the sound there was a percepti
ble tremor of the building, not more
marked, however,than would be caused
by the passage of a street car or a dray
along the street. For perhaps two or
three seconds the occurrence excited no
surprise or comment. Then by swift
degrees, or perhaps all at once, it is dif
ficult to say which, trie sound deepened
in volume, the tremor became more de
cided, the ear caught the rattle of win
dow-sashes,gas-fixturas and other loose
objects. The men iu the ofiice, with
perhaps a simultaneous flash of recol
lections of the disturbance of the Fri
day before, glanced liurridly at each
other,sprang to their feet, with startled
questions and answers. What is that?
Earthquake ? And then all was be
wilderment and confusion. Then the
long roll deepened and spread into an
awful roar that seemed to pervade at
once the troubled earth and the still air
above and around. The tremor was
a rude, rapid quiver that agitated the
whole lofty, strong-walled building as
though it were being shaken by the
band cf an immeasurable power with
intent to tear its joints asunder and
scatter its stones and bricks abroad as
a tree casts its over-ripened fruit before
the breath of the gale.
There was no intermission in the vi
bration of the mighty subterranean en
gine. From the first to the last it was
a continuous jar, only adding force at
every moment, and as it approached
and reached the climax of its manifes
tation it seemed for a few terrible sec
onds that no work of human bands
could possibly survive the shocks. The
floors were heaving under toot, the sur
rounding walls and partitions visibly
swayed to and fro, the crash of falling
masses of stone and brick and mortar
was heard overhead, and without the
terrible roar filled the cars and seemed
to fill the mind and heart, dazing per
ception, bewildering thought, and for a
few panting breaths, or while you held
your breath in dreadful anticipation of
immediate and cruel death, you telt
that life was already past, and waited
for the end as the victim, with his bead
on the block, awaits the fall of the up
lifted ax.
It is not giyen to many men to look
in the face of the destroyer and yet live;
but it is little to say that the group of
strong men who shared the experience
above faintly described will carry with
them the recollection of that supreme
moment to their dying day. None ex
pected to escape. A sudden rush was
simultaneously made to endeavor to at
tain the open air and tlee to a place of
safety; but before the door was reached
all reeled together to the tottering wall
and stopped,feeling that hope was vain,
that it was only a question of death
within the building or without, to be
buried by the sinking roof or crushed
by the toppling walls. The uproar
slow'y died away in seeming distance.
The earth was still, and oh! the blessed
relief of that stillness ; but how rudely
that silence was broken. As we dash
ed down the stairway and out into the
street, already on every side arose the
shrieks, the cries of pain and fear, the
prayers, wailings of terrified women
and children mingled with the hoarse
shouts of excited men. Out in the
street the air was filled to the height of
the houses with a whitish cloud of dry,
stifling dust from the lime and moitar
and shattered masonry which, falling
upon the pavement and stone roadway,
had been reduced to powder. Through
i his cloud, dense as d fog, the gaslights
NO. 35-
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flickered dimly,shedding but little light
so that you stumbled at every step over
piles of brick or became entangled in
the lines of telegraph wiies /hat depend
ed in every direction from .their broken
supports. On every side were hurrying
forms of men and women, barelteaded,
partially dressed—some almost nude—
and many of whom were crazed with
fear or excitement. Here a woman is
supported, half fainting, in the arms of
her husband, who vainly tries to soothe
her, while he carries her into th# open
space at the street corner,where prctienf.
safety seems assured ; there a woman
lies on tne pavement with upturned
face and outstretched limbs, and the
crowd passes her by for not
pausing to see whether she be aliye or
dead.
A sudden light Hares tbrotr&h a win
dow overlooking the street; it becomes
momentarily brighter 4 } and the cry of
"Fire !" resounds from tlie multitude.
A rush is made toward the spot. A
man is seen doubled up and helpless
against tne wall, but at this moment,
somewhere out at sea, overhead, deep
in the grcund, is heard again the low,
ominous roll which is already too well
known to be mistaken. It grows loud
er and nearer, like the growl of a wild
beast swiftly approaching his prey,* and
all is forgotten again in the frenzied
rush for the open space where alone
there is hope of security, faint thpugh
it be. Tiie tall buildings on either hand
blot out the skies and the stars, and
seem to overhang every foot of ground
between them. The shattered cornice
c* at the {.;•< -.f their frown
ing walls seem piled from both sides to
the centre of the street. It seems that
a touch would now send the shattered
masses left standing down upon the
people below, who look up to them and
shrink together as the tremor of the
earthquake again "passes under them,
and the mysterious reverberations swell
and roll along like some infernal drum
beat summoning them to die, *ud it
passes away, and again is expel ieitecd
the blessed fceiiug of deliverance from
impending calamity, which it may well
be believed will provoke a mnte but
earnest offering of mingled prayer and
thanksgiving from every heart in the
throng.
Again, far along the street and up
from the alleys that lead into it on
either side is heard that chorus of wail
ing and lamentation which, though it
had not ceased, was scarcely noticed a
moment before. It is a dreadful sound,
the sound of helpless, horror-stricken
humanity, old and young, the strong
and the feeble alike, where ad are so
feeble, calling for help from their fellow
creatures and raising their anguished
voices in petition to Heaven for mercy,
where no human aid could avail. It is
not a scene to be described byany mor
tal tongue or pen. It is not a scene to
be forgotten when the witness has shar
ed all its dangers and felt all its agony.
The first shock occurred at seven
minutes of 10, as was indicated this
morning by the public clocks,the hands
on all of which had stopped at that
fateful hour, as though to mark the
end of time for so many who had heard
the preceding hour pealed forth by St.
Michael's chimes without a thought
but of long and happy life. The second
shock, which was but a faint,crisp'echo
of the first,was felt eight minutes later.
As it passed away the writer started
homeward, to find the scenes enacted
on Broad street, around the "News
and Courier" office, repeated .at every
step of tne way. St. Michael's steeple
towered high and white above the
gloom, seemingly uniujured. The
station-house, a massive brick building
across the street, had apparently lost
its roof which had fallen around it. A
little further on theToof of a portion of
the Iliternian Hall, a handsome build
ing in the Grecian style, had crushed
to the ground, carrying down part of
the massive granite pillars with it. All
the way up Meetipg street, which in re
spect of its general directiou and im
portance may be called "The Broadway
of Charleston," the roadway was piled
with debris from the tops of the walls.
In passing the Charleston Hotel,
which, to carry out the comparison a
bove indicated, occupies the position of
Stewart's up-towu store iu New York,
the third shock was felt about ten min
utes after the second, and, of course,
caused the greatest alarm in that neigh
borhood as elsewhere. At Marion
Square, corresponding exactly with
Union Square, New York,a great crowd
had collected, as even the edges of the
wide spaces embraced in it could not be
reached by the nearest buildings in the
event of their fall. From this crowd,
composed of men, women and children
of both races, arose incessant calls and
cries of lamentation, while oyer the
motlev half-dressed throng was seen
the lurid light of the conflagration
which had broken out just beyond the
square immediately after the first shock
and had nearly enveloped several build
ings in flames. In three other quarters
of the town at the same time similar
large fites were observed under full
headway, and the awful significant*; cf
the earthquake may most fully be ap
preciated, perhaps, when it is said that
with these tremendous fires blazing up
(Continued on Fourth pa<je.)