University of South Carolina Libraries
\ \ THOUSANDS DEAD. rA Frightful Loss of Life in Pennsylvania. the Bursting of a Huge Dam Submerges a Populous District. The Most Terrible Disaster in the Country's History. Men, "Women and Children Engulfed in a Massive Wall of Wrater?Towns i and Villages Wiped Out?Fire Adds Its Horrors to the Flood?The Financial Loss Estimated at $40,000000?Lynching Robbers of the Dead. I The fair and beautiful valley of the Conemaugh River, in Cambria County, Penn., has become a horrifying scene of devastation, ruin and death. The wrecks of houses, stores and factories are strewn along the banks of the river for a distance of many miles. The city of Johnstown, with its 25,000 population, and numerous villages along the route of the raging torTent, are literally in ruins. The loss of life is tremendous, thousands of people having been destroyed in the flood caused by the breaking of the greatest reservoir in the world. The dam of this reservoir gave way at its base at 5 o'clock in the afternoon, emptying ,the water of Conemaugh Lake, three miles long, three-quarters of a mile wide, and more than one hundred feet deep in places, into the valley. Conemaugh Lake has been dammed by the "South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, composed of wealthy gentlemen of Kttsburg. It 1.1 nrn / a. _ i at t_i was more inau iow ieet aoove ine donnstown level, on the side of the Alleghany Mountains and the dam was 1000 wide, 110 feet high and 90 feet in thickness at the base. The top of the dam was over twenty feet wide. Recognizing the danger to the valley below the company had the dam inspected every month by the Ponnsvlvania Railroad engineers, and their report was that nothing less than a convulsion of nature's forces could tear the barrier away. The Coming of the Flood. For forty-eight hours a steady and heavy rain had been falling oil along the valley of the South Fork and Conemaugh Rivers, and at 5 o'clock the people of the valley had been warned of impending danger. At 5 o'clock there was a water-spout, and then the dam gave way. "With a rush and a roar the flood went pouring down the valley carrying everythingoefore it. * Sturdy elms and stanch old oaks were wrenched out of the ground and tossed and tumbled like straws by the irresistible torrent. Four miles below the dam was the town of South Fork, where the South Fork empties into the Conemaugh. It had 500 houses and 2000 inhabitants. The warning had been received by the people of this devoted town and many of them had clamored up the mountain sides to await the subsidence of the storm, taking with them only a few belongings wherewith to stock improvised camps. From their places of security in an incredibly hort time after 5 o'clock they saw their homes swept away and the town completely destroyed. Down through the "Pack-saddle" came the rushing waters, already freighted with the trees and timbers of the valley above. The trunks and boughs of the trees, its first victims, were used by the angry torrent as weapons wherewith to strike destruction in its iurtner course. Many people were still in their houses, and the surging waters were so rapid in their movements that many of these were caught at their avocations and drowned at their posts. Others rushed to the upper floors only to be overtaken there, while some succeeded In reaching the roofs, and these were carried away with the tide and were seen tossing hither and thither on the upper wave, then submerged or dashed against some obstacle In the pathway of the vengeful torrent. Gathering fresh impetus and fresh strength as it went, the flood rushed on and caught the little village of Mineral Point, four miles below. The Point had 800 inhabitants and was on a flat at the very bottom of the green-clad valley. It was completely overwhelmed in the terrible wall of waters that surged onward and must have been forty feet high. Six miles further down the river, which runs alongside the tracks of the Pennsylvania road, was the beautiful little town of Conemaugh. Here the valley widened and the village sat on a little eminence, though in the centre of the valley, and it was hoped that in a case of flood the torrent would be stopped here. Indeed, the people below Conemaugh had so much faith in this idea that they had made little or no preparation for the flood, even after the warning was sent out. But the devoted little Conemaugh was wrested from its foundations, and its homes and business houses were ruthlessly tossed and torn by the maddened waters, and her 2500 people were made homeless, while many of them were swept away by the tidal wave to destruction. Wood vale, a village of 2000 inhabitants, a mile below, and the city of Johnstown, another mile down the valley, with her suburbs, Cambria City and Conemaugh Borough, were next raiip-Vit in t.Vio flnnH The torrent had traveled eighteen miles, ana it was forty xeet deep when it washed over Johnstown. Johnstown with her suburbs had a a population of mora than 25,000. The Cambria Iron and Steel Company employed 1800 men in their big factory and had $5,000,000 worth of buildings, machinery and stock. All this was reduced to a ruin, and the devoted city was literally wiped out and thousands of lives were lost. From places far up the mountain side fugitives from the flood watched the course of the destroyer as it did its ghastly work among their homes. After two hours but two roofs in the city could be seen above the water, and during those awful two hours those in safety had witnessed scenes such as have turned dark hair to gray and furrowed up smooth young faces with the seams and wrinkles like those of old ago, while many a heart was torn and bleeding with anguish unspeakable. In the flood as it came down the valley j were hundreds of people clinging, with the j grip of drowning ones, to trees to which they had taken at the first warning of the approaching flood. The trees had been torn up by the roots and carried away with their human freight. Here and there one or two or three persons floated swiftly past on the roof of their homes or on some bulky article of furniture, the thing nearest to them when the tide reached them up the valley. And then there were almost countless dead bodies rolled and tossed _ by the ruthless water, some of them still clinging, with the grasp of death, to some noaung aracie, dux. most ox xoem wrencnea from their holdings and ghastly in death. AU along the rout? of the flood people rushed to the bridges to give aid to those who might float down on the maddened sea, but as the terrific flood approached they saw how fruitless would be their e;Torts and how dangerous their attempt, and rushing from the Dridges would reach the shore just in time to see the structure rent and torn assunder, their ruins added to the floating debris. A Pitiful Sight. The stream of human beings that was swept ! before the angry floods was something most j pitiful to beholtl. Men, women and children j were carried along frantically shrieking for help, but their cries availed them nothing. Rescue was impossible. Husbands were swept past their wives, and children were borne rapidly along at a terrible speed to certain death before the eyes of their terrorized and frantic parents. Houses, outbuildings, trees and Darn3 were carried on the angry flood of waters as so much chaff. Cattle standing in the fields were overwhelmed, and their carcasses strewed the tide. The railroad tracks converging on the town were washed out, and wires in all directions were prostrated. Clinging to improvised rafts, constructed in the death-battle from floating boards and timbers, were agonized men, women and children, their heartrending shrieks for help striking horror to the breasts of the onlook era. Their cries were of no avail. Carried along at a railway speed on the breast of this rushing torrent, no human ingenuity could devise a means of rescue. It is impossible to describe briefly She suddenness with which the disaster came. A warning sound was heard at Conemaugh a few minutes before the rush of water came, but it was attributed to some meteorological disturbance, and no trouble was borrowed because of tho thing unseen. As the low, rumbling noise increased in volume, however, and came nearer, a suspicion of danger began to force itself even upon the bravest, which was increased to a certainty a few minutes later, when, with a rush, the mighty stream spread out in width, and when there was no time to do anything to save themselves. Many of the unfortunates were whirled into the middle of the stream before they could turn around; men, women and children were struggling in the streets, and it is thought that many of the them never reached Johnstown, but only a mile or two below. At Johnstown a similar scene was enacted, only on a much larger scale. Tho population is greater, and the sweeping whirlpool rushed into a denser mass of humanity. The imagination of the reader can better depict the speo- ; tacle than the pen of the writer can give it. It : was a twilight of terror, and the gathering ; shades of evening closed in on a panorama of ; horrors that has few parallels in the history of casualties. The thought of rescue was madness, and the agony of the struggling, | drowning victims rouna its response in the bosoms of those who stood wringing their hands in helpless horror in j view of their friends. Now and then the ] waters would wash against one side of the I mountain and then to the other side, carry! ing with them their human freight. This diversion enabled those on the banks to rescue many. Some Individual Experiences. At Bolivar the Conemaugh rose from six to forty feet, the water spread in five minutes over the whole country, and houses went floating down, men, women and children clinging to the debris, shrieking wildly for aid. The people of Garfield, on the opposite side of the river, rushed to the stone bridge below the town with ropes, and these were thrown over into the boiling water in an endeavor to save some poor beings. But all efforts were fruitless until a lad astride a shin?le roof managed to catch a dangling rope, o swift was the speed of the torrent that he was hurled violently against an abutment. But he managed to retain his grip on the rope and was hauled up on to the bridge. He was John Hessler, and he related an awful experience. He is sixteen years old, and was spending the day with his grandfather at Cambria City. There j were also there Theodore, * Edword s and John Kintz and John Kintz, Jr., Miss s Mary Kintz, Mrs. Mary Kintz; Miss Treacy j Kintz, Mrs. Rica Smith, John Hirsh, four t children and the father and grandfather of ( young Hessler. All were lost in the flood. c "Shortly after 5 o'clock, says young Hess- a ler, "there was a rush and roar of waters j and we heard screaming people outside. Our s home was on the side hill and my father said t the water would not reach us. The houses t further down were being swept away, T wa oil watit ?r\ in+A flio auu no au ?ouv uy uiw tuw vuu u ? story. I was scared and I jumped upon ? a bed. It was an old-fashioned bed, with T big, stout posts. The water reached that ? floor and kept rising till my bed was afloat, j My grandfather, my father, John Kintz and t John Hirsch climbed out of a window with Mary and Mrs. Kintz. but I staid on the bed. It kept rising, and finally the big posts were pushed through the ceiling. I crawled out through one of the holes made that way and got on the roof. There I saw the men t who got out of the window on trees. Mary t. and Mrs. Kintz must have drowned, and t! Miss Smith was also drowned. The water ^ kept rising and the roof began v to float down on the tide. I saw grandfather o and father, caught in the tree by the water, r covered over and drowned. John Hirsh F and the four children were also drowned * in a tree. My roof parted and then I sailed away at awful speed. Live bodies t and corpses were all about me in the o water. I would hear somebody shriek in the F water and then see him disappear. All t along people on shore tried to save us, but a they could do nothing, the water carried us along so fast. Only a few were saved." 1' A man named Young, living in Johnstown, ? floated down the flood on a bit of floor. He u held two women in his arms. At the upper o bridge, at Bolivar, a rope was thrown to them. Young tried to grasp it I and hold fast to the women, one of whom s was his aged mother, but he was jerked away F from them. Then he bravely dropped the 3 rope and fell back upon the raft, again tak- 9 ing the women in his arms. A little t. further down the frail raft floated toward y the edge of the flood. Young seized the overhanging branches of a tree and had * succeeded, by Herculean efforts in placing a the women on the upper boughs, when the I heavy debris of a bridge came down on the v flood, struck the tree, tore it from the ground ? and hurled it into the water, drowning all n three. a Vnnnrr's heroism filled the minds of the f' distracted spectators only a few moments to 1 give place to admiration "to that of a mother g who, floating under the bridge on the roof of t a shed with her two little ones in her arms, to shook her head sadly when a rope was low- h ered to her and clung more closely to her is babes. The mother's sacrifice was averted ' at Cokeville, a little further down, for all o three were rescued. P A little girl, kneeling, her hands clasped in d prayer, passed down on the torrent on a bit h of flooring. There was a beatific expression t on the white, frightened face as she passed on " to death a little further on, where her raft p was shattered against a tree. At Lockport, about eighteen miles from d Johnstownf Eliel Benson, an old man, Mrs. si Boyle, Paddy Madden and two Hungarians were rescued. Mr. Benson said: b " I live in Cambria City. I think not less than 1500 people were lost. In the house tl with me on Chestnut street were ten persons n besides myself, and I feel sure they were all tl lost. Up to 4 o'clock the water, which was fi about seven feet deep in the streets, ? remained stationary. At about four fi o'clock in the afternoon the great f rush came. In fifteeen minutes the water rose a fully ten feet, and in five minutes more I am n sure fifty houses camo floating down the n streets. There were people in every one of t: them, and God only knows how many were f lost. As they were carried off the f houses were jammed together and ' against the houses still standing, and t in a very few minutes they were 8 all battered to pieces before they had been carried very far. The house I was in was soon smashed to pieces, and I managed to iump on to a cellar door. In a few minutes j I was pushed off into the flood, and when c I looked back where Cambria City t stood there was nothing but a < great lake of water. It looked to mo j as if every house had been raised or cov- ^ ered over. The vast sheet of water was full of j floating timbers, roofs of houses, rafts and j other articles. The scene was indescribable. . The cries of the men, women, and children . were fearful. I passed Paddy Madden's wife, f iny son's wife, and a man clinging to the roof j of a house. I called to them and bade j them good-by. In a short time I . was caught by the water and , turned under. Ererr nnca ill a while I cot I i into a whirlpool and almost lost mv grip on j the cellar door. I saw people in the water ahead of me Many of them were struck by i the crashing timbers and killed outright. t They were so badly hurt that they fell into , the water and drowned at once." Fire's Added Horrors. Of all the frightful occurrences the most " terrible was the fire, in which Supervisor J Hays of the Pennsylvania Railroad estimated that from 1000 to 2000 unfortunate be- ' ings were burned to death. The sight -was so heartrending that the bravest turned paloand sickened. Over three hundred frame houses were jammed together in a heap forty feet i high against the massive viaduct of the "Penn- < sylvania Railroad at Johnstown. All the . houses were destroyed and the majority of the inmates crushed to death bel'ora the terrible ' fire began. Men, women and children, with 1 their limbs pinioned between the timbers, their life's blood slowly ebbing away, begged pite- ( ously for relief. One unfortunate woman 1 asked a man on the bank for God's sake to 1 cut her legs off. A man was caught by the ] arm and pleaded piteously for a knife to sever ; the member. Others were literally smashed and squeezed to death beneath the grinding timbers and surging waters. Some were pressed deep into the w ater, and the flood soon ended their misery. But to add to the horror of this scene a fire broke out in the mass of timbers, and nobody escaped. The flames soon devoured the people, and nothing remained but the charred j and scattered corpses floating about on the water. Supervisor Hays stood on the bank watching the fire, powerless to render the victims any assistance. The crios of suffering and pain only doubled the horror of the great disaster. Long after dark the flames of flre shot high above the burning mass of lumber, lighting up the vast flood of rushing water3 on all sides. Two Trains Overwhelmed. A frightful disaster occurred to two of the through trains from Pittsburgh, -which were supposed to be safe at Conemaugh. A train east bound, from Chicago to New York, and the mail train from Pittsburg, bound east, were put on the back tracks in the yard at Conemauch when the flooded conditon of the ma in tracks made it apparently unsafe to proceed further. When tne continued rise of the water made their danger apparent, the frightened passengers fled from the two trains to the hills near-by. Some in their wild excitement threw themselves into the raging current and were drowned. A number of per- 1 sons were lost this way. When Superintendent Trump reached Conemaugh, he immediately gathered together the remaining passengers of the two trains, and had them conveyed to Ebensburg by wagon, a distance of about ten miles. After the people had deserted the cars, the railroad officials state, the two Pullman cars attached to the day express were set on flre and entirely consumed. A car of lime was standing near the train. When the water reached the lime it set fire to the car and, the flames reaching the sleepers, they were entirely consumed. Recovering Dead Bodies. ] All along the river between the Allegheny t River and J ohnstown dead bodies were picked I up. In a ten-acre field at Ninevali seventy-five [ bodies -were taken out within a half mile of t sach other. Of this number only five were t men. The rest were women and children. Many beautiful young girls, refined in feat- ? ores and handsomely dressed, were found, t and women and young mothers, with their I hair matted with roots and leaves are 1 constantly being removed. The wrecking I Tew who took out these bodies were confident that 150 bodies were buried t in the sand and under the de- t bris on these low-lying bottom lands. 1 Some of the bodies were horribly c nangled and the features twisted and dis- s torted,as if they died in the most excruciating s igony, and others a. a found lying in stretched- r jut positions with calm faces. Many a tear was fc Iropped by the men as they worked away re- t novmg the bodies. An old lady with fine gray e mir was picked up alive, although nearly E svery bone in her body was broken. Judg- c ng from the number of women and children Ij 'ound in the swamps of Nineveh the female fc x>rtion of the population suffered most. v Mr. O'Connor was at Sang Hollow, ( i few miles west of Johnstown, when \ he flood began. He remained there v brough the afternoon and night, and t ic says that there was a fatal tree on fc in island against which a number of per- ^ ons were dashed and mstantly killed. Tneir t >odies were almost tied in a knot doubled over he tree by the force of the current. Mr. D J'Connor says that the first man who i ame down had his brains knocked out v igainst this obstruction; in fact, all those who t at the tree met the same fate and were in- c tantly killed. He could give no estimate of t he number lost at this point, but he makes s he figures large. Mr. O'Connor says he a lever saw such an awful spectacle. The oor people in the raging flood cried out t a terror for aid that never came. Gladly v rould the brave men standing upon the banks j iave helped them out, but this was impossible. n lore than one brave man risked his life in ? rying to save those in the flood. ? t t; Robbers of the Dead Lynched. p A Hungarian laborer was lynched at Johns- n own and six others were shot, as a lesson to he ghouls who have been despoil- b he dead and plundering the liv- t Qg. The ghoul who was lynched " cas caught in the act of cutting off the finger ' f a dead woman to possess himself of the ? ing. An infuriated mob seized him and Lrnmnflr cfnmff him nn n nnlA , b ""t, -0- i? i -l .. he lesson had a salutary effect. ? The Hungarians got hold of a number of t arrels of whisky, and the liquor was served h ut to the mob in buckets. The result was c andemonium let loose. The liquor auickly s old on empty stomachs aud excited Drains, t nd every man of them was set crazy drunk. The drunken horde of Huns started out to J jot the houses and to plunder the dead. They a eized everything that came in their way,ana a i their frenzied haste to possess themselves a f valuables mutilated the aead. e They made a raid on the First National s Sank a little after midnight, and would have f ucceeded in getting considerable booty if a t iarty of armed citizens, apprised of their evil n oings, had not come upon them in the nick b f time. The citizens poured a volley in upon p hem and six of them were laid low. The rest l rere either captured or put to flight. t Another incident of even greater moment j ras brought to notice. At 8:30 oclock a. m. y n old railroader, who had walked from Sang t lollow, stepped up to a number of men who d rere congregated on the platform J bation at Curranville, and said: "Gentle- a ien, had I a shotgun with me half an hour t go I would now be a murderer, yet with no t ear of ever having to suffer for my crime, ii 'wo miles below here I watched three men c oing along the banks stealing the jewels from be bodies of the dead wives aud daugh- e ars of men who have been robbed of all they e eld dear on earth." He had no sooner fin- e shed the last sentence than five burly men a rith looks of terrible determination written a n their faces were on their way to the scene of v lunder, one with a coil of rope over his shoul- r er and another with a revolver in his t and. In twenty minutes, so it is stated, t bey had overtaken two of their victims, p rho were then in the act of cutting e ieces from the ears and fingers from t bo hands of the bodies of two t ead women. "With revolver leveled at the I joundrels the leader of the posse shouted: t "Throw up your hands or I'll blow your e eads oir." With blanched faces and trembling forms bey obeyed the order and begged for lercy. They were searched, and as heir pockets were emptied of their nds the indignation of the crowd itensified, and when a bloody finger of an inant, encircled with two tiny gold rings, was ound among the plunder in the leader's pocket , cry went up: "Lynch them!" Without a moaont's delay ropes were thrown around their ecks find they were dangling to the limbs of a ree, in the "branches of which an horn- beore were entangled the bodies of a dead ather and son. After half an hour the ropes rere cut and the bodies lowered and carried o a pile of rocks in the forest on the hill tbove. Measures for Relief. From every part of the country, from the national Government and from the Governors of States have come offers of relief to he people of the desolated region. In Now STork, Philadelphia, Chicago, St. Louis, Boston, Atlanta, and other cities, subscrip.ions were opened to aid the homeless and lelpless. Philadelphia sent the biggest reief train ever forwarded over the line. A elief train filled with clothing and nesessities of life was also sent out rom Pittsburg. The proclamations of the Mayors of many towns brought a generous espouse, and tne movement to aid the peojle who have suffered by the greatest disas:er in our country's history, has been warmlearted and widespread as the nation's Conines. A correspondent who was among tho first :o reach Johnstown after the flood's subiidence had permitted entrance into the city jstiraated the number of dead at from 6000 ;o 10,000, and the financial loss at $40,000 000. BABY McKEE CHRISTENED, President Harrifion'sGrandchild Bap- ' tised in the Blue Room. | The -President naa a pieasouu uvue ;ui iji?ao n store for the members of his Cabinet the jther day. Shortly before the meeting adjourned he announced that the infant of his laughter, Mrs. McKee, would be christened in the blue room after the meeting. Secretary Blaine had some business to attend to and could not wait, but the other members present?Messrs. Tracy, Windom, Noble, Wanamaker and Miller?remained for the ceremony. Besides these and the President and Mrs. Harrison, there were present Mr. and Mrs. McKee, Private Secretary Halford, "Baby" McKee and a few attendants. Dr. Scott, the great grandfather of the child, performed the ceremony. Thero wero four generations present, Dr. Scott, Mrs. Harrison, Mrs. McKee and her children. The christening was entirely informal, and was not performed according to any particular church ritual. The baby was called after her mother, Mary, with the addition of "Lodge," afamily nam'o. The ceremony was conducted quietly, and the President and Mrs. Harrison expressed the wish that as little attention as possible bo given to it* REV. DR. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUNDAY SERMONS. Subject in the Morning: "lluinoru Company." Subject hi the Evening: "Lessons of the Pennsylvania Flood." Text: 11A companion of fools shall be destroyed."?Proverbs xni., 20. "May it please the court," said a convicted criminal, when asked if he had anything to ay before sentence of death was passed upon him, "may it please the court, bad company has been my ruin. I received the blessings of good parents, and, in return, promised to avoid all evil associations. Had I kept my promise I should have been saved this shame, and been free from the load of guilt that hangs round me HIta a Trn1ftt**A ranfnmi n o> tnHrflfr mfi to illS tice for crimes yet unrevealed. I, who onco moved in the first circles of society, and have seen the guest of distinguished public men, un lost, and all through Bad company." This is but one of the thousand proofs that die companion of fools shall be destroyed. Ct is the invariable rule. There is a well man n the wards of a hospital, where there are i hundred people sick with ship fever, and le will not De so apt to take the disease as a jood man would be apt to be smitten with noral distemper, if shut up with iniquitous sompauions. In olden times prisoners were herded together in the same cell, but each one learned he vices of all the culprits, so that, instead of >eing reformed by incarceration, the day of iberation turned them out upon society >easts, not men. We may, in our places of business, be cornjelled to talk to and mingle with bad men; rat ho who deliberately chooses to associate limself with vicious people is engaged in arrying on a courtship with a Delilah, whose hears will clip off the locks of his trength, and lie will be tripped into >erdition. Sin is catching, is infecious, is epidemic. I will let you look over he millions of people now inhabiting the arth, and I challenge you to show me a good nan who, after one year, has made choice and onsortea with tho wicked. A thousand dolars reward for one such instance. I care not iow strong your character may be. Associate pith gamblers, you will become a gambler. Jlan with burglars, and you will become a inrglar. Go among the unclean, and you rill become unclean. Not appreciating tho ruth of my text, many a young man has ieen destroyed. He wakes up some morning o the great city, and knows no one except he persons into whose employ ho has entered. As he goes into the store all the clerks aark him, measure him and discuss him. lie uprignt voungmen of tho if bore wish him rell, but perhaps wait for a formel introducion, and even then have some deliacy about inviting him into their associaions. But the bad young men of the tore at the first opportunity approach nd offer their services. They patronw> him. They profess to know all about the own. They will take him anywhero that he rishes to go?if he will pay the expenses, i'or if a good young man and a bad young nan go to some place where they ought not, he good young man has invariably to payhe charges. At the moment the ticket to o be paid for, or the champagne settled for, he bad young man feels around in his lockets and says: "I have forgotten ay pocket book." In forty-eight hours fter the young man has entered the srore the ad fellows of tho establishment slap him oil he shoulder familiarly, and, at his stupidity 11 fo In'nrr aa^foin o llneirtno untt 'tt tt/Minrr Li iniftiilg WJI W*1U CtllUJlV/iU, CHIJ I HIT JVUllg riend, you will have to be broken in;" ana hey immediately proceed to break him in. roung man, in the name of God, I warn you to >ewaro how you let a bad man talk famliarly with you. If such an one slap you on lie shoulder familiarly, turn round and give im a withering look, until the wretch rouches in your presence. There is no montrosity of wickedness that can sta id unaashed under the glanco of purity an\ honor. First, I warn you to shun the skeptic?the oung man who puts his fingers in bis vest ad laughs at your old fashioned religion, nd turns over to some mystery of tie Bible jid says: ''Explain that, my pious friend; xplain that." And who says: ''Nobody hall scare me; I am not afraid of tho uture; I used to believe in such hings, and so do my father and aotner, but I have got over it." Yes, he las got over it; and if you sit in liis cornany a little longer, you will get ovor it too. Vithout presenting one argument against he Christian religion, such men will, by their eers, and scoffs, and caricatures, destroy our respect for that religion which was ue strength of your father in his ieclining years, and the pillow of our old mother when she lay -dying. Alas! a time will como when that flustering young infidel will have to die, and hen his diamond ring will flash no splendor a the eyes of Death, as he stands over the ouch, waiting for his soul. Again, I urge you to shun the companionhip of idlers. There are men hanging around very store and office, and shop, who have lothing to do, or act as if they had not. They .re apt to come in when the firm are away, nd wish to engage you in conversation vhile you are engaged in your egular employment. Politely suggest o such persons that you have no time to give hem during business hours. Nothing would ilease them so well as to have you relounce your occupation and associate with hem. Much of tho time they lounge around he club rooms or the doors of engine louses, or alter ttie ainmg nour siana upon be steps of a fashionable hotel or an ilegant restaurant, wishing to give you the idea that that is the place where they dine. But they do not dine there. They are sinking down lower and lower, day by day. Neither by day nor by night have anythiug jo do with the idlers. Before you admit i man into your acquaintance ask him politely: "What do you do for a living?" If he says: "Nothing; I am a gentleman," look out for him. He may have a very soft hand and very faultless apparel, and have a high sounding family name, but his x>uch is deatu. Before you know it you will in his presence bo ashamed of your work lress. Business will become to you drudgery, rod after awhile you will lose your place, in<i arterwara your respectability, and ast of all your soul. Idleness is next door to rillainy. Thieves, gamblers burglars, shop ifters and assassins are made from the class rho nave nothing to do. When the police go to rnnt up and arrest a culprit they seldom go a look in among busy clerks or in the busy :arriage factory, but they go among tho groups of idlers. The play is going on at tho heatre, when suddenly there is a sculHe in ;he top gallery. What is it? A policoman las come in, and, leaning over, has tapped on ;he shoulder of a young mau, saying: "I vant you, sir." Ho has not worked during ;he day, but souehow has raked together a shilling or two to get into the top gallery. Ho s an idler. The man on his right hand is an dler and the man on his loft hand is an idler. Shrink back from idleness in yourself and n others if you would maintain a right posi;ion. Good old Ashbal Green, atmoro than 5ighty years of age, was found busy writing, rod some young man said to him: "Why do rou keep busy? It is time for you to rest." 3e answered: "I keop busy to keep out of nischief." No man is stroig enough to ba die. A vnnn# man name to a man of ninetv fears of ago and said to biui: "How hnvo fou made out to live so long aud bo so well?" The old mau took the your gstcr to an or:bard, and, pointing to soieo largo trees full >f apples, said: "I planted these trees wlicu [ was a boy, and do you wander that now [ am permitted to gather the fruit of ihem?" We gather in old a?e what we plant n our youth. Sow to the wind, and we raap ;lic whirlwind. Plant in early life tho right and of a Christian characl/er aud you will at luscious fruit in old age, and gather thoso harvest apples in eternity. Again: I urgo you to avoid tho pur>etual pleasure seeker. I believe in ro:roation and amusement. I need it as much is I need bread, and go to my daily oxei-ciso vith as conscientious a purposo as 1 go to the lord's Suppor; and all persons of sangiuuo lemperament must have amnsement and re:reation. God would not hnvo made us vith the capacity to laugh if He had not in:ended us sometimes to indulge it. God bath lung in sky, and sot in wave, aud printed on jrass many a roundelay; but ho v;ho chooses ileasure seeking for his life work does not unlerstand for what God made him. Our imusements are intended to help is in somo earnest mission. The bunder cloud hath an edge ixquisitely purpled, but, with voice that ars the earth, it declares: "I go to water he green fields." Tho wild flower3 under the ence are gay, but they say: "We stand lere to make a beautiful edge for tho wheat ield, and to refresh the hustaindmen in heir nooning." The stream sparklea \ and foams, and frolics, and says: "I go to baptize tho moss. I lave the spots on the trout. I slacke the thirst of the bird. I torn the wheel of the mill. I rock in my crystal cradle muckshaw and water lily." And so, while the world plays, it works. Look out for the man who always plays and never works. You will do well to avoid those whose regular business it is to play ball, skate or go a-boating. All these sports are grand m their places. I never derived so much adtratiforro onw iniofnrin 1 rtcavMnftrtTi no from a ministerial club that went out to play ball every Saturday afternoon in tho outskirts of Philadelphia. These reactions are grand to give us muscle and spirits for our regular toil. I believe in muscular Christianity. A man is often not bo near God with a week stomach as when he has a strong digestion. But shun those who make it their life occupation to sport. There are young men whose industy and usefulness have fallen overboard from the yacht on the Hudson or the Schuylkill. Then) are men whose business fell through the ice of the skating ppnd, and has never since teen heard of. There is a beauty in the gliding of a boat, in the song of skates, in the scaring of a well struck ball, and I never sea one fly but I involuntarily throw up my bands to catch it; and, so far from laying a a injunction upon ball playing, or any otto a* innocent sport. I claim them all as belonging of right to tnose of us who toil in the grand industries of church and state. But the life business of pleasure seeking always makes in the end a criminal or a sot. George Brummell was smiled upon by all England, and his life was given to pleasure. He danced with peeresses, and swung a round of mirth, and wealth and applause, until exhausted of purse, and worn out of body, and bankrupt of reputation, and ruined of soul, he beegea a biscuit from a grocer and declared tnat he thought a dog's life was better than a man's. Such men will crowd around your desk or counter or workbench or seek to decoy you off. They will want you to break out in tho midst of your busy day to take a ride with them to Coney Island or to Central Park. Thoy will toll you of some people you must Bee; of some excursion that you must take; of some Sabbath day that you ought to dishonor. They will toll you of exquisite winos that you must take; of costly operas that you must hear; of wonderful dancers that you must see; but before you accept their convoy or their companionship remember that whilo at the end of a useful life you may be able to look back to kindnesses done, to honorable work accomplished, to poverty helped, to a good name earned, to Christian influence oxertod, to a Saviour's cause advanced?these pleasure seekers on their death bed have nothing better to review than a torn playbill, a ticket for tho races, an empty tankard and the cast out rinds of a carousal: and as in the delirium of thsir awful death they clutch the goblet and press it to their lips, the dregs of the cup falling upon their tongue will begin to hiss and uncoil with the adders of an eternal poison. Rather than enter tho companionship of sucn, accept cne mvitauon to a oetier least. The promises o? God are tho fruits. Theharps of heaven are the music. Clusters from the vineyards of God have been pressed into the tankards. The sons and daughters of tho Lord Almighty are the guests. While, standing at the banquet, to ml the cups and divide the clusters and command tho harps and welcome the guests, is a daughter of God on whose brow are the blossoms of paradise, and in whose cheek is the flush of celestial summer. Her name is Religion. Hor ways are ways of pleasantness, And all hor paths are peace. Dr. Talmage on the Johnstown Flood. "A cry of anguish has rung across tha land." Thus Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage spoke to Ave thousand peoplo at night, in his sermon upon the disaster at Johnstown. Ponn. The text from the 93d Psalm was this: '"The floods, O Lord, have lifted up their voice." "The rivers of America," Dr. Talmage, said, "are her pride and her wealth. The glory of New York is its Hudson. Pennsylvania has her Susquehanna, her Alleghany, her Mononghela, ^ and least, yet mightiest in the history of the world's desolation, her Conemaugh. Yes. in these latter days the floods have lifted up their voice.' In 1877, 210,000 souls were drowned at the mouth of tho Granges. Ocean's wrath is uncurbed. Where is the Ville do Havre ? Where is the President ? Where is the Atlantic ? Where is the City of Boston? "Last Thursday night tho dam broke above the city of Johnstown and away went homesteads, factories, churches and asylums of mercy. Ten thousand perished. Buildings were piled in debris fifty ieethigh, and of them wero made a holocaust. Woe! Woo! Woe! In that place the voices of peace, industry, friendship, goodneighborhood have given way to the voices of despiiir, agony and desolation. Tho floods have lifted up their voice. What does it tell us of? The morcilessness of natural forces, the emptiness of a natural religion. There are thoso who tell us they want only the religion of sunshine, art, blue sky and beautiful grass. The book of nature must be their book. Let me ask such persons what A# in PotmcirlTranif! 9 LIJOJ liiuiiC uui ui uiiu uva;uo in ^ Thoso pitiless witters whelmed father, motlier, son and daughter, with as little feeling as though they had been muskrats. They sundered families as pitilessly as they would the planks of a raft. And over all that scene of misery I make bold to say there was not one tear save those of human anguish. People tell us the rain is the tears of nature, the wind in the branches her sigh of sympathy. But that is poetry. The clouds smile, but they never weep; they destroy, but never save. The wind in cycloue fury sweeps to death whole cities, but it nover sighs. Natural forces cut, bruiso, burn, destroy, but never pity. "Natural religion is not enough for me. If tho people in the valley of the Couemaugh had prayed to the clouds to save their children* what would have been the answer? Only tho flash of falling water, the roaring of the floods, tho crash of falling timbers. I know but one religion which says: 'If I take away a life I'll give a better one; I'll make an explanation, if not in this world, in the one to come.' It is not an. emeritus religion. The faith that inspired the martyrs, burned with molten lead, torn apart by horses?that is the faith which,! undertake to say, is to-night sustaining hundreds of misery-stricken souls in the valley of the Conomaugh. "Our advantage may in the end prove to be a disaster. The prosperities of men become their overthrow. The greater tho run of prosperity the bettor, but there are men in this land graping in their selfishness and pride. They pray heaven and earth and hell. 'Give! Give!' They gulp down such creditors as cannot pay; they swallow tho result of market fluctuations, of corncrs in wheat, of mortgages which poor men cannot meet. They swallow, swallow, till they become rivers of damnation rolling through the land. You red-mouthed rivers of Pennsylvania, go back into your channels. You rivers of greed, cease your impetuous onrushing. " Calamities, I am persuaded, do not mean always God's displeasure. I have been in the valley of tho Conemaugh. I know tho people of Johnstown. There is none kindlier, none more hospitable, more Christian. Men try to hurl tho judgments of God. I don't l>oliove in that kind of arsrument. This Bible says, whom God lovetli He chastsneth. He is going to pour a blessing through those valleys wider and deeper than the torrent of disaster. Misfortunes come in herds. In 1814 fortunes, crowns and sceptres were at the feet of Walter Scott, but one disaster after another fell upon him. One day he asked his daughter for his pen, and that wizard hand which gave to the world 'Guy Mannering,' 'Ivanhoe.' Maid of Perth,' 'Kenil worth,' could not write his name. The multiplication of disasters meaus the multiplication of comforts. "If this world is all. it's the deadest failure in the univorse and life is not worth living. Let us bo practical in our sympathies. If you cannot go to the relief meeting to be held at the Park Theatre, then give as your conscience dictates. I shall bo at that meeting and hope you all will be. Think lovingly of your fellowmen and women who to-night, whilo you are sheltered in comfortable homes, are huddling in the bushes on the mountains of Pennsylvania. God have mercy on them! The time is fixed for all our departures. I am glad wo do not know it. All I want is to be right with God and right with man. Then let the sea roar, and the fulness thereof. .Let the floods clap their hands." The German Emperor gave to Prince Bismarck, on the latter's birthday anniversary, a fine old engraved portrait of his ancestor, the Provost George Federick von Bismarck, born in 1697. It is framed in oak, ornamented with the Prince's coat-of-arms, and bears a dedication written l)? the Emperor. _ TEMPERANCE. LITTLE BEEK. Gurgle, gurgle, little beer, In your meet and lowly sphere, Many a thirsty neck you wet, Drowning many a vain regret, In your song there's lots of cheer, little beer! Gurgle, gurgle, little beer. Place my name on record here, That of all the liquids known, From temperate to intemperate zona, Standest tnou without a peer, Little beer! Gurgle, gurgle, little beer, I do love thee. Tea, I fear My affections too intense, Cling around thee, deep and dense, Loved not wisely, but too dear, Little beer! Gurgle, gurgle, little beer, Stream of amber, bright and clear; TjO you mind the days that I Tried to drink the brewery dry? Oft you got me on my ear, Little beer! Gurgle, gurgle, little beer, Ah! How many a bitter tear Sparkles in thy shining foam? in nuy a, uesuxaicu iiujuic? Many a sorrow, dark and drear, Little beer! Gurgle, gurgle, little beer, You may think- it rather queer, But I feel that I must shim You, or give the job up, one. No more schooners will I steer, Little beer! ?M. M. Folsom, in Atlanta Constitution. THE YOUNO MEN'S WHEBEABOCT3. "Where are the young men?' Some startling facts in answer to this question were recently presented in the Christian Standard. There are about 30,000 young men in the nation's capital. Of these not quite ten per cent, are communicants in churches. On one prayer meeting evening 168 young men, all tola, attended religious service in ten leading churches and ten of the larger young people's meetings. The same evening 365 young men were seen entering ten of the 1000 saloons during a single hour. 818 were present at two of the lowest theatres, at one of which there was an estimated attendance of 100 boys under sixteen. A WHITECEAPEL VICTIM. In his speech at the Presbyterian Synod the other evening the Rev. John MacNeill created quite a sensation by telling the following tale: He was speaking of temperance, and said that last Sunday, when he preached a temperance sermon at the Tabernacle, lie received a letter that had been written by a lady on the danger of the use at communion of fermented wine. The lady in her letter told a sad story of an inherited passion for drink. There were four or five of them?several brothers and two sis* ters?the children of intemperate parents. Her sister had unfortunately inherited the craving, and before she was fourteen had taken to drink. The others became converted and did all in their power to cure their sister, but it was of no use. The sister at length married comfortably and children were born. But the craving for drink grew greater and greater, and at length she was sent to a home for inebriates, where she stayed a year. She left apparently, said the sister, a changed woman. Soon after, however, her husband caught a severe cold, and before going out one morning drank a glass of hot whisky? taking care, however, not to do so in the presence of his wife. Then, as was his custom, before leavine he kissed his wife. At once the fumes of alcohol passed into her, and in an hour she was a drunken and roaring woman. She went from worse to worse, and at last left her husband and her children, one of them a cripple through her drunkenness. The husband died two years ago, a white-haired and broken-hearted man, though only forty-five J rears old. "Need I add," said the sister in her etter, "what became of her? Her story is that of Annie Chapman, one of the recent Whitechapelvictims, That was my sister!" ?London Pall Mall Gazette. MAGNITUDE OF THE BUM TRAFFIC. It is clear that through prohibition the bulk of the enormous sum that is spent every year in Pennsylvania for rum will be saved to the people. Has the reader any clear idea of the magnitude of the traffic? Let us take an example. Take a city with 500 saloons?and there are a number that have that many in the Keystone State?and let us figure up the amount of money wasted by the people for rum. How many dollars does each saloon take in over its bar each day, on an averagetaking into the calculation all saloons of all descriptions, from the gorgeous bars, frequented by the men with money, down to the dirty little beer-shop in the suburbs. From actual investigation in one Ohio city, we are inclined to believe that the average is about $15 per day. But let us put our figures entirely within the mark, and say that each of these 500 saloons averages but $10 per day. Let us make our calculation on that basis. Ten dollars a day for each of 500 saloons gives a total of $5000 per day. "We will leave Sunday out of the calculation, though the great majority of saloons derive their most profitable trade on that day, and count but six days per week. This, then, gives a total of $30,000 spent for rum in one week. In the fiftytwo weeks of the year, then, the rum bill of that city amounts to the vast total of $1,560,000! How large a city does it take to maintain five hundred saloons? The city of Toledo has about one hundred thousand population, and it contains between four hundred and five hundred saloons; this may afford a basis for nnv nna who desires to estimate. Suppose the saloons were all banished from the Pennsylvania city we are considering; what then would go with this ?1,580,000 which is spent by its people for ram? It would go for things which would benefit these men instead of iniuring them. These persons and their families would live better; they would have better food and in greater variety; they would wear better clothing; they would live in better houses, and their homes would be better furnished and more attractive. The money would be spent for these, not for rum. The grocers, the butchers, and the bakers would all have greater patronage; the dry goods merchants, the boot and shoe men, the clothing men, would have a larger trade; the furniture men, and in fact the dealers in the thousand and one articles of comfort and convenience that are required in households, would all sell more. Take any city of one hundred thousand inhabitants and consider what would be the effect of adding $1,560,000 to its trade every year. Trace out the channels in which this enormous sum would flow, if the yawning hell-holes were closed down which it pours in a never-ending golden stream, its payers receiving nothing of value in return. Then extend the calculation to the entire State of Pennsylvania, and you will have some faint idea of the enormous voluntary tribute which the people pay annually to that infernal combination of greed and selfisliness, the rum power. "What argument in favor of rum can stand against such a showing? The abolition, through the adoption of Prohibition, of this onerous tax upon the people would be true economy. It would mean, practically, the addition of two-fifths to the wages of the drinking class?for it is estimated that an average of two-fifths of the Sy of these men goes for rum and threeths for the necessaries of life. Is there not here an evil that needs prompt remedy? The experience of Kansas* and Iowa and Maine is that Prohibition does prohibit. The only way to stop this drain of tho money of the people is to abolish the saloon. License will not do it. for the saloon still exists under license. There is no way of stopping it dui. the one?through Prohibition to destroy the saloon and pulverize the rum power.?Toledo Blade. VT. c. t. V. bulletin'. A National German-American Prohibition League has been established in Chicago. Cauon Wilberforce calls Infidelity, Impurity and Intemperance the "Trinity of Evil." The first official act of a woman Mayor of Kansas is reported to have been fining a man "J5 for a plain drunk." On the same day she "made two gingham aprons, set a hen and returned five calls." San Francisco, with its one criminal to every twenty-three citizens, one liauor saloon to every "sixteen voters, four thousand grog shops, and ten thousand women of ill repute, is a sorry advertisemet of the wine and liquor business. If we take the products of all of the mechanical industries of the country, the liquor industry included (15,369,579,191), we find that nearly one-fifth ($947,953,795), goes to the laborer as wages, while taking the liquor industry alone, we find that only about onetenth of its produc ts goes to the laborer as wages. RELIGIOUS READING. HEAVEJT AND EARTH. Tbire are no shadows where there Is no sun; There is no beauty where there is no shade; And all things in two lines of glory run. Darkness and light, ebon and gold inlaid. 9od comes among us through the throuds of air; ' And hii dim track is like the silvery wake L"ft by yon pinnace on the mountain lake, Fading and reappearing heie and there. r rhe lamps and veils through heav"n and earth that move, Go in and cut, as jealous of their light, Like sailing stars upon a misty nignt. Death is the shade of coming life; and Love Yearns for her dear ones in the holy tomb, Because bright things are better seen in gloom 1 ?F. W. Faber. A CHARITABLE WOMAX. The Duchess of Galliera, who died at Pari? last December, was a remarkable woman. Highly cultured, familiar with courts, endowed with enormous wealth, of which her husband's death left her undisputed control, h?r life was one of unceasing benevolence. Though a Roman Catholic, she was no bigot; the love of Christ was the motive of all her actions. She had one son, but he preferred to live the life of a scholar, and refusing to take any money from his mother he is now living on his salary of $1,800 as professor of ' 1- H4o mntw &AJU3UUU 1X1 tuo iUCl gO ObUWi. , wvvuv* during her life gave away more than 180,000,000 of personal property, and deeded thirty-two million dollars' worth of real estate for benevolent purposes. At her death not more than a million dollars' worth of personal property was lefr, of which her will made the Empress Frederick executrix and residuary legatee. It has been her plan to end her days in an almshouse should she live to be eighty, but death prevented. A mother and son of equal self-denial and benevolence the world has seldom seen. THE SOURCE 07 STRENGTH. We may be very weak, our talents very few, our opportunities seemingly still fewer, but our success does not depend upon our own force or genius or influence. It is God's blessing that gives the increase. Without it* the mighty demonstrations of Paul and the burning eloquence of A polios would have been in vain. With it, the simplest child in the school of Christ can overturn citadels of error, and build up the waste places of many generations. Compared with each other: some men may appear great and the rest small; but compared with God, as He looks down from the height that knows no measure, and compared with the immense difficulties in the way of His cause, all are worms of the dust, whose strength is that of the noth. God does not need our strength to accomplish his purposes, though he is pleased graciously to employ us in his service. The united church could not of itself make a single blade of grass to grow, much less convert a single soul. Omnipotence is needed to do < ither, and omnipotence is his own, and was his own before ever a human heart beat, a human sinew was stretched, or a human mind thought. The strongest among us is utterly impotent for any good work, but the weakest among us is mighty if he work with God. "Without me ye can do nothing," saiththa Saviour. "I can do all thines through Christ strengthening me," said His apostfa. If we think to be efficient causes of good ourselves, we shall bo disappointed. If we are willing to be inst Timents in the hands of God, we can accomplish anything Ha pleases for the power will be His, not ours. The 1 Al ?..?,-.nlnnn *A Kfl tKfl weaker. ioeu, wo i<*ji uui:u?ca w w, better for our success,# we try to do good; because God will put His strength in us only as we put reliance upon our own strength out of u&* -G. W. Bethune, D. D. THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL. How many noble ships there are which sail from port in strength and beauty and are never heard of again. Some incoming vessel may report a signal of distress heard in the darkness, and a fruitless search for it, or a letter may be found in a bottle, but that is all that is ever known- Upon some beach is a broken wreck, the sport and plaything of the breakers, all that is left of the stately ship which sailed away so gallantly. 'But what is a wreck on the beach to a wreck on tbe shores of eternity? The ship may go down with all hands on board, ana yet it may be well with them. The ocean " may be for them the gate into the heavenly city where they shall go out no more, bnt this wreck of the soul is a hopeless thing, and yet so easily accomplished. It seems only necessary to' let a soul alone and let it drift and by some terrible tendency in itself it irill dash upon tho rocks. You need not jouch the tiller, but some magnetic attraction tvill draw it swiftly into danger. If you add the winds of temptation and bin to accelerate its speed, it seems to fly on its destructive :ourse. Surely amidst these perils we need i sure and steadfast anchor, and we have in lope. i.. As the huge anchor goes down into the great deep and fastens its iron t oth upon the movel.ss rocks. holding the ship liks a giant &rax so the Chri-tian's anchor of hope . , goes up into the heavenly sanctuary and fastens itself upon Jesus, and we are held safely forever, sure and steadfast Hope is desire and expectation, and if we are hoping for some great earthly good or pleasure in the near future, it helps us greatly to bear present pain or evil. All pain that is not perpetual is attended with consolation in the thought that some time it will be over, so wr can see the chrering power of hope. Thus the Christian hope acts. It reaches up to VinoTOti nnrt whisners to the soul, this light ' affliction is bm for a moment, then comes the great good, heaven will atone for all sorrow here. God's people meet adversi y with courage, one 'rial after another, shock succeeding shock, because they are anchored safely, and have trust in God, and a sublime hope in his present favor and his luture ble sing. It is a glorious thing to have this anchor of the soul, but we must not expect wrong or impossible things from its use. For one thing we must not fasten it to visible things. Thai floating log the world will not hold. Yoo must not throw it on the decs of any passing vessel or together you will go to shipwreck. Our anchor must fasten upon the invisible things of God. Hope that is seen is not hope, but tho unseen things are eternal. Let us hope in God, in Christ, in heaven, and never fasten < ur soul to the passing things of lime and sense. Let go the anchor, let out the chain far out of sight down to the immovable rock, believing in him wh m we have not seen, and this hope he will have as "an anchor of the soul both sure and steadfast, '?hich entcreth into that within tho veil"? Christian at Work. Get out of self, ani get into Christ. Patient waiting is often tho highest way of doing God's will Man originally fell by losing his confident* in God, and can only be raised by the restoration of his confidence; in other words, unbelief was his ruin, and he now stands by faith. 0 Christian, the God whom you serve is so excellent th it no good can be added to Him, and so infinite'hat no good can be diminished in Him! He makes happy, and yet is v not the less happy; He shows mercy to the full, and yet remains full of mircy. Upon mo lies a Durueii waitu i(.aiiuui auui upon any other human crea'.ure?:ho burden of duties unfilled; words unspoken, cr spoken violently and untimely; of holy relationship neglected; of days wasted forever; of evil thoughts one * cherished, which are ever appearing as fresh as when they were first admitted into the heart; of talents cast away: of affections in myself, or in others, t rifled with; of light within turned to darkness. So speaks the conscience, so sjwaks, or has spoken, the conscience of each man and woman.?Ma urice. KING ALCOHOL WOJf. Two young men, Tim Sullivan, eighteen years old, and Tom Curry, nineteen years of age, had a fight with King Alcohol in Chicago with fatal results. Young Sullivan's brother is a saloon keeper, who engaged the boys to move a whisky barrel into the cellar. They found a bucketful of liquor in the barrel and immediately proceeded to make themselves comfortable. They emptied the bucket between them, and were soon in a paralyzed state of drunkenness. This gave wuy to a stupor and later on to convulsions. The two boys were found some time later lying insensible on the ground, and their features in a horribly distorted shape. Sullivan died two hours after taking the first drink. Curry was in such a critical condition, that his death was emected atiinv time.