Democratic Sentinel, Volume 10, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 September 1886 — Page 6

A WOOD KYMPH. BY WM. HAUGHTON. Two roguish eyes as black as coal; Two ruby lips that somewhere stole The fragrance from the roses; Soft tresses, dark as ebon night; A cheek within whose dimpled light The blush of dawn reposes; A face, so like a dream divine—’Twas such a face that looked on mine With mingled fear and wonder— Then suddenly the vines were stirred, And such a rippling laugh I heard From out the bushes yonder. I c'uld not move—entranced I stood Within the shadows of the wood, Lost in a dream elysian; But while I dreamed the sprite or fay Swift vanished from my sight away, Like some enchanted vision. I called to mind my boyhood dreams Of wood nymphs by the haunted streams, With vines and blossoms laden— But here in this secluded wood Was one of real flesh and blood— A veritable maiden. I then and there made up my mind That laughter-loving fay I’d find— I’d seek her late and early; I’d hunt the woodland o’er and o’er— Fea, search the land from shore to shore, Until I caught her fairly. Not long I sought—O, joy supreme I 1 found her resting by a stream Half hid among the bushes Her feet bung o’er the clamoring tide That kissed them and then fled to hide Beneath the bank its blushes. But how I wooed that maiden fair, What tales I told her then and there Of how my heart long sought her, I may not speak, O, friend, save this: That twilight was an age of bliss, By Elva’s starlit water!

THE THREE LOVERS.

We had camped for the night by a clear stream. Our “flies” were stretched and we hurried to the water to bathe our tired limbs and swollen feet. Now we lounged around the camp-fire, wondering how long it would be before we could refresh and fortify our empty stomachs and appease the hunger that had deadened our strength and killed the enthusiasm of past days. We had done battle at Gettysburg, every man had been a hero. We had whipped Lee, and knew he was badly crippled and without abundant ammunition. We had among ourselves argued and wondered why Meade did not follow up the advantage he had gained. We longed, prayed, hoped in vain for Hancock, Sickles, or Doubleday, or cool yet impetuous Stannard, to lead us on and then and there crush out the fearful strife; but it was not to be; the timid Meade, ever cautious, was doubly so now. He knew Lee was all “broke up,” his ammunition gone, his army huddled together, demoralized in that little horseshoe bend of the Potomac; the swollen nver on one side, hills on the other, he would have been easy game to bag; all Along the roadside of his retreat we had found it strewn with sick and wounded, dead horses, and abundant arms. Their flight was rapid, but fatally interrupted. As Byington said: “Lee had exhausted nearly all his ammunition in three days’ battle and could not replenish,” Scores of his regiments had not a dozen rounds, and could get no more. Nearly all his artillery was without ammunition. These facts were known to Meade and his men, and were discussed by the soldiers every day that Lee lay cooped up at Meade’s Jnercy, his retreat cut off by the Potomac, which was running banks Yuli at the time, and pontoons swept away. The timid Meade refused to attack Lee; •staid right there four days. Then his boys stole a lumber yard, made rafts and floated over the river at their leisure. Good Uncle Abe said “Meade reminded him of an old woman trying to shoo her geese across the creelc” As soon as Lee was across, then camirthe hot pursuit by Meade. We had had several engagements, and now, after a fierce battle and a forced march to this place, we bivouacked weary and hungry, awaiting “salt horse and hard tack, ” and the repetition of tramping and foolish, vain sacrifice of life. “Well, boys,” said Sergeant Dick, “if we can’t eat, let us feed the ear with stories. I’ll tell one. After I, you ’uns.” Many laughable stories followed. We filled our pipes and lounged around the bivouac fire, enjoying ourselves. “Come, Charley, spin us a yarn,” said Robinson to our sergeant. “Yes, let us have one,” chorused the pipe-filled mouths“I know of none,” said the sober Charley, in his low tone. “Give us something ex tempore,” said Dick. “I suppose all are alike; nothing good; all fade; glory and fame are like dews; the rich oppress the poor, and—and, well, only conquest of lovely woman and stolen love is sweet, and glorious, and lasting, worthy the candle, all else, faugh!” “Except conquest and virtue of one’s self,” said the clear, low voice of Sergeant Charley. “Ha!” cried several pipe-filled mouths. “Two opinions.”

“Or one’s principles,” said Charley. “By Mars!” exclaimed Dick, “that was nobly said, and I believe it, but give us a story, Charley, me bye.” As Charley told it, I tell it to you. Today I retain the impression made, and will till I cease to be. “Well, boys, lam not much of a story teller. lam not one of the windy, talking kind. You know I won my ‘diamond and chevrons’ by acts, not words. To-night I am filled with an evil presentiment”—and he cast his eyes heavenward. We did the same, and noticed that it was black as erebus; low mutterings of thunder, borne on a light breeze, came to our ears. “The influence,” he continued, “is strong, and I will speak about myself. I feel that there are but a few rounds of breath in my cartridgebox of life. Why I have been so distant, reserved, and reticent toward you all, is not from pride or thought that I was ‘too good for earth;’ the cause and wherefore you will know when I have finished my story. Back in Vermont among the mountains green, near the town of Montpelier, 1 often visited a friend of my father’s. He had two sons about my age. I think they were the best and truest hearts I ever met; I loved them both. I was the son of a hardy, honest lumberman in Maine. They were of a wealthy aristocratic family, and they were imbued with the same views and ‘principles or opinions’ as their parents. They loved me because I was a model type of health, and versed in the arts of fishing, hunting and woodcraft. We spent our time away from home, seeking new fields and streams. What glorious times. What happy days among the mountains, on the lakes, in that gem State of Vermont. After all, boys, happy times and days bring clouds of trouble and sor-

row. Man’s life is like the glow of sunset, clouds all seem serene and beautifpl, yet back down below the horizon, there waiting, are dark clouds, with wild winds ready to hurl themselves into the sunset gloaming and destroy all its beauty and serenity. So our fondest hopes, the proudest, brightest, dearest wishes are crushed beneath the cruel iron heel of fate, and wrong may reign triumphant, and innocence stagger blinded and bruised through a wilderness of despair. Through the tangled labyrinth, bristling with sharp thorns of poverty, of kindness, and full of agony, the world goes on just the same, and we live to fight and suffer to-morrow. Yes, there is a woman in the story, boys, and such a woman.” He paused a moment in deen thought, then shook himself together and continued: “I cannot describe her to you. I can only say Mary of Scots always came to my thoughts as I gazed into her beautiful eyes and face; her features were finely cut, her eye roguishly, laughingly beautiful. Her hair of a golden brown, worn long, tied with blue ribbon, her form fully developed, willowy, and graceful, Edith Warren was as beautiful as woman could be. She was, I believed, frank, truthful, and unaffected. You know, boys, when love first sets in we see as through a glass, darkly. The tide is strong, it is a passion that rules supreme, and demands sacrifices complete, and they are given. Tom and Frank and I loved her. We became jealous, cold toward each other. Frank, poor boy, fell first and fled homeward. Tom and 1 talked the matter over together, confessed our love for Edith, shook hands, swearing friendship, and to use all honorable means and endeavors to win her. As Edith’s father lyas a lumberman, like my own, I thought iny chances were better, as I was her equal in all except education. Tom bad the advantage of me in that; he could recite Moore, Burns, and Meredith; besides he had wealth. Edith’s time did not hang heavy for lack of sweethearts. We filled her pink ears full of sweet words. She grew rosy, and her eyes danced like the stars; she was full of life and fun, surely tantalizing with her bewitching laugh and ambiguous replies and saucy looks from her sparkling eyes. I can see her plainly now just as she stood at the little ashwood gate. With sad, mournful look and voice she bade me good-night and good-by. Well, boys, Tom, poor Tom; be staked all on his good looks and money; on a word; he never told me anything, but I guessed it by his looks and silence. His eyes, great heaven! What a despairing look 1 beheld in them! as for me, well, as she bade me good-by at the gate she said she would write me, and I might guess her meaning. As the stage started I cast one backward look. My heart seemed to die within me. A groan came to my ear. I looked around and saw Tom’s white face and glaring eyes; he saw and heard wbat I did—a loud call of ‘Edith, darling!’ Over the low, ‘smallwood’ hedge sprang a tall form, clothed in blue and brass. With one glad, happy cry of ‘Robert!’ Edith flew to him, was clasped in his arms, her golden head pillowed upon his breast.

“Arriving at Montpelier, we found a furor of excitement. War, war was heard on every hand. We found the old laughing Frank with soldiers’ clothes on, and sergeant’s chevrons upon his arms. He was pale and haughty, not like the dear, oldtime Frank. “Well, boys, Tom and I received a letter the same day. Both were from Edith. The next day Tom enlisted. I started for home. Boys, you know the rest. For two years we have stood elbow to elbow. Tom, he is just across the road there, in that Vermont regiment. His Captain—Robert, Edith’s soldier-brother—is buried at bloody Antietam’s field. Frank, poor, misguided boy, sleeps at Maryland Heights. “Ah! here comes the ‘salt horse’—last night’s supper, to-day’s breakfast, dinner, and supper; four in one, at the same price as one. Charge, boys, charge!” “Hold on, Charley,” exclaimed Dick, hurt at this extraordinarily abrupt levity breaking in on a story which had, for some cause, thrown a spell on us; “finish your story. You said we should know all. Edith ” “Fall in! fall in, boys! Lively, now! Trouble on the left!” came the stern command from our Captain. We grabbed handfuls of “hard tack,” and fell into line, and in five minutes were rapidly on the march. All night we tramped, tramped through mud and rain, hungry and silent. At daybreak we formed ourselves in line of battle, facing a desperate foe. I glanced at Sergeant Charley. His face was set and determined. I wondered how the story was to end; but stories and hunger were forgotten in the terribX* struggle that followed; for four long hours we battled against odds; the cannonading was fierce and awful. Hand-to-hand encounters were desperate, cannoneers were clubbed and bayoneted at their guns, which they obstinately defended, and would rather die than surrender. We longed for reenforcpments, which came at last. Death indeed was triumphant and reaped a rich harvest. A few of the many stood there to answer “Here!”

We stood among the dismounted guns where dead men were four and five deep. Tears cam’e to our eyes as we looked upon the awful scene. A groan came from a heap of men at the left. We hastened to give aid to the sufferer. We came to the broken cannons; we started back with a cry of horror, for on top of the heap of dead by the gun lay Charley’s friend Tom; his blouse showed many bayonet thrusts, one completely through his neck. He had partly drawn from his bosom a fine white handkerchief bloody and full of holes; in the comer worked in silk was a letter “E.” Fallen upon the trunnions of the cannon as if in the act of embracing its still warm body lay Charley dead, a crooked saber bayonet stuck into his body just above the belt; an ugly wound on the side of his head from which the blood still trickled and mingled with the golden hair of a ringlet pressed to his lips. The golden curl was tied with a blue ribbon; the long end had rested upon his breast, but now was driven into his heart by the leaden messenger of death. The short end fluttered in the light breeze. Upon it in neat, round letters was written “Edith.” Esthetic Young Lady— Can you conceive of anything more somberly and poetically solemn than the denouement of “Romeo and Juliet?” Could ; the poet have made their fate more weirdly tragic? Cynical Bachelor—Oh, yes; he might have married them. The Russian Empire contains 884 penitentiary establishments.

HUMOR.

It’s not th® clock with the loudest tick that goes the best. When is a thief like a seamstress? When he cuts and runs. “Great men often rise from small beginnings.” says a writer. How true! Even George Washington was a little baby at one time.— Puck. Thirty-two hundred babies are born in the United States every day, •nd yet people wonder where all the squalls and cyclones come from. Duck eggs forty years old were eaten at a recent marriage celebration in North Carolina. The bride was probably preparing her husband for washday dinners. Parker—“ Why is friendship like a New York monument fund?” Eli — “Don’t see it. Give it up.” Parker—- “ Because it is a creature of slow growth.”— Free Press. Before a young man takes to himself a wife whose relations are numerous and near, he should pass a few hours in a boiler factory when the thought first strikes him. Much as Mark Twain loves financial success it gives him a twinge to read that he is “more notable as a very shrewd and clever business man than he is as a humorist.”— Texas Siftings. “Oh, Why Should They Bury Me Deep ?” is the title of some verses sent to this office by a Minnesota poetess. After reading the poem the reason seems clear enough to us. — Estelline Bell. “What is James doing now-a-days, Mrs. btephens?” “James is following the races this year. ” “But I thought I|saw him in town to-day?” “Yes, you see he follows them by telegraph. ” Tid-Bits. Young Featherly had been imparting some information to Mrs. de Towser which interested that lady very much. “I am quite surprised, Mr. Featherly,” she said, “to hear of this. It only shows that—that ” “One is never too old to learn?” prompted Featherly, gallantly.— Bazar. Mrs. de Hobson Clarke (who flatters herself upon her youthful appearance) —“You would scarcely think, Mr. Dumley, that the stalwart young fellow near the piano is my son, would you?” Dumley gallantly—“No, indeed, Mrs. Clarke; it seems absolutely impossible. Ah —er —is he your eldest son ?” — Bazar.

“Gus,” said a fast young man to a companion, “if you had to be dunned every day, where would you rather be dunned, down in the street, or up in your room?” “Up in my room, of course.” “Because you don’t want everybody to know it?” “No, it’s not that; but what I want is the satisfaction of kicking the fellow down stairs.”— Texas Siftings. Old Farmer —“Well, John, since you’ve got through with college and got home to us again, mother and me would lilqe you to give us a little exhibition of your learning. It will make mother feel proud, I know, to see how you have ad van. ed.” Son —“All right, father; if you’ve got a bat and ball and you’ll do the pitching, we’ll begin right away.”— Boston Courier. “So, Uncle Jack, you don’t much believe in the idea that men are called to preach.” “Wall, sah, de Lawd mout call some niggers ter preach, but it sorter ’peers ter me dat whar de Lawd calls one, ole man Laziness calls er dozen. Nine nigger preachers outen ten is de lazies’ pussens in de worl’.” “How do you know, Uncle Jack?” “’Casel’se er preacher merse’f, sah.” —Arkansaw Traveler. COUNSEL FOR DEFENDANT. He could bombard any jury with warm pathos and great fury, and convince them that his client wasn’t guilty ot the charge ; He could cabbage a retainer, making sure of the remainder when his client was acquitted. And 'twas usually large. He could manage a venire with a challenge that was fiery, or cross-question and witness in a manner that was cross ; He could show the Judge that hia ruling showed a lack of legal schooling, and refer him to the statute in the late amended laws. He could sass the opposition till they wished . him in perdition, and could sling them outing answers at a most illegal rate, For his case was always surest, and his client was the purest, and seemed always in his glory when he bucked against the State. He was handy with a capias, or a writ of corpus habeas, or could get a change of venue if stern justice looked too sure, He could quote from Coke and Chitty, with his own additions, witty, till the Judge would use his mallet, and the room be in a roar. But the Sheriff, Death, has called him, and in his last case installed him (rosewood), and himself is suppliant at the Bar of Last Resort; And unto the great evangel he will swear he was an angel; plead his own case with great fervor, there before a higher court. Those who knew him are quite sure he will confound the high-born jury till he causes a division o'er the question: “Is he washed ?’ And by force of all his pleadings, get a stay in the proceedings till the prosecution wearies and the old indictment’s quashed. —Detioit Free Press.

It is reported from Nevada that a farmer in that State has bored a well that “sucks in air, and makes a loud, whistling noise.” The report does not say whether the farmer was pleased at having bored a well of th s sort, merely intimating that he was considerably surprised. If he had been an ancient Chinese, he would have been pleased, for that people, it is said, believed that life was prolonged by “swallowing the breath,” or accumulating air in the system ; and if they had caught the earth swallowing its breath, they undoubtedly would have considered it a good omen. The “vital aura” was what the ancient Chinese used to call the air thus acquired. They would have been profoundly impressed by the circumstance of Mother Earth drinking in the vital aura with a loud, whistling noise. Eakly marriages are encouraged among the French Canadians, and it is the rule for girls to marry when they reach their fifteenth or sixteeeth year.

CHARLESTON’S WOE.

The South Carolina City Wrecked by Violent Earthquake Shocks. Not a Hundred Houses Left Intact, and Scores of Persons Buried in the Ruins. Fires Add Terror to the Scene—Fearful Sufferings of the People—A Survivor’s Narrative. The Business Portion of Summerville, S. C., Wrecked, and Many Persons Killed. A terrible earthquake shock at Charleston, S. C„ on the evening of Tuesday, the 31st ult„ was followed at brief intervals by several others of less force. The first shock came from the southeast, and struck the city at 9:55 p. no., Tuesday. During the twenty-four hours following, there were ten distinct shocks, but they were only the subsiding of the earth-waves. The disaster was wrought by the first. Its force may be inferred from the fact that the whole area of country between the Atlantic coast and the Mississippi River, as far to the north as Milwaukee, felt its power to a greater dr lesser degree. Charleston, however, was the special victim of this elemental destruction. The city is substantially in ruins. Two-thirds of its houses are uninhabitable. What stores are left are closed, as their owners dare not go to them. Churches and other public buildings are in ruins. Railroads and telegraph lines are torn up and destroyed. Between fifty and sixty lives are believed to have been lost, and many people were maimed by falling buildings and by jumping from the windows of houses. Fires broke out and added to the horrors of the scene. The loss of property is roughly estimated at 510,000,009. Two-thirds of the houses of the doomed city are rendered uninhabitable, being wrecked either totally or partially. The approach of the quake, says a Charleston dispatch, was heralded by the usual rumbling sound, resembling distant thunder. Then, as it gradually approached, the earth quivered and heaved, and in a few seconds it had passed, the sound dying out in the distance. The city is a complete wreck. St. Michael’s Church and St. Philip’s Church, two of the most historic churches in the city, are in ruins, as also the Hibernian Hall, the police stations, and many other public buildings. Three or four fires started in as many sections with the first shock of the earthquake, and the city was soon illumined with flame, thus leading all to believe what was left by the earthquake would be devoured by fire. Hardly a house in the city escaped injury, and many are so shaken and cracked that a blow would bring them to the ground. The shock was severe at Summerville and Mount Pleasant and on Sullivan’s Island, but no loss of life is reported there. Fissures in the earth are noticed from which a fine sand, apparently from a great depth, exudes. A sulphurous smell is very noticealAe. The city is wrapped in gloom and business is entirely suspended. People generally remain in the streets, in tents and under improvised shelters, and will camp out to-night, fearing another shock. Not even during General Quincy A. Gilmore’s bombardment of the city has there ever been such a deplorable state of affairs here. The city is literally in ruins, and the people are living in open squares and public parks. There is a great rush to the railroad depots to get away, but owing to the earthquakes notrains have been able to be dispatched; from the city. It is impossible to depict the ruin and desolation that prevails here. Not a single place of business in the city is open save a drug-store, which is busy preparing prescriptions for the wounded. It is impossible also to give any correct estimate of the killed and wounded, as bodies are constantly being disinterred from the debris of the wrecked houses. Many of the dead are lying unburied, these being of the poorer classes of colored people, who await burial by the county. There are not a half dozen tents in the city, and the women and children are experiencing great privationsin consequence, Summerville, twenty-two miles from Charleston, was nearly destroyed by the earthquake. Many persons were killed and hundreds rendered homeless. The whole business portion, of the town was badly wrecked.

A NIGHT OF TERROR.

Graphic Description of the Awful Scenes That Occurred in Charleston. [From the Charleston News and Courier.] Necessarily the description that can be given of the disaster which has befallen our city consists in the narration of the experiences and observations of individuals, and, the subject being the same and the experiences of all being nearly alike, the story told by one careful observer may well stand for a hundred others, with slight variations. Probably the best idea that can be had of the character of the disturbance, therefore, may be obtained from a narration of the events and scenes of Wednesday night as they were presented to a single person. While engaged in his usual duties in the second-story room of the News and Courier office 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, over the floor. Accompanying the sound there was a perceptible 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 <• wist degrees, the sound deepened in volume; the tremor became more decided ; the ear caught the rattle of window-sashes, gas-fixtures, and other loose objects. The men in the office, with, perhaps a simultaneous flash of recollection of the disturbance of the Friday before, glanced hurriedly at each other, and 'sprang to their feet, with startled questions and answers. What is that? Earthquake? Andi then all was bewilderment and confusion. Then the long roll deepened and spread into, an awful roar that seemed to pervade at once th® troubled earth and the still air above and around. The tremor was now a rude, rapid quiver that agitated the whole building as though it were beinc shaken by the hand of an immeasurable power, with intent to tear its joints asunder and scatter its stones and bricks abroad. There was no intermission in the vibration of the mighty subterranean engine. From the first to the last it was a continuous jar, only adding force to every moment, and as it approached and i eached the climax of its manifestation, it seemed for a few terrible seconds that no work of human hands could possibly survive the shocks. The floors were heaving under foot, the surrounding 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 ears. It is not given 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 movement to their dying day. None expected to escape. A sudden rusn was simultaneously made to endeavor to attain the open air and flee 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 on y a question of death within the building or without, to be buried by the sinking roof or crushed by the toppling walls As we dashed down the stairway and out into the street, already on every side arose the shrieks, the cries of pain and fear, the prayers and wailings of terrified women and children, commingled with the hoarse shouts of excited men. Out in the streets the air was filled to the height of the houses with a whitish cloud of dry, stifling dust from the lime, mortar, and shattered masonry, which, falling upon the pavement and stone roadway, had been re-

duced to powder. Through this cloud, dense as fog, the gaslights flickered dimly, shedding but little light, so that you stumble at every step over the piles of brick or become entangled in the lines of telegraph wires that depended in every direction from their broken supports. On every side were hurrying forms of bareheaded men and women, partially dressed, some almost nude, and many of whom were crazed with fear or excitement. The first shock occurred at 9 53, as was indicated by the public clocks. The second shock, which was but> a faint and 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 the way. St. Michael’s steeple towered high and white above the gloom, seemingly uninjured. The station-house, a massive brick building across the street, had apparently lost' its roof, which had fallen around it A little farther on the roof of the portico of the Hibernian Hall, a handsome building in the Grecian style, had crashed to the ground, carrying down part of the massive granite pillars with it All the way up Meeting street, which, in respect of its general direction and importance 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 above indicated, occupies the position of Stewart’s up-town store in New York, the third shock was felt about ten minutes after the second, and. of course, caused the greatest alarm in that neighborhood, as elsewhere. At Marion Square 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 calle and cries and lamentations; while over the motley, halfdressed throng was shed the lurid light of the conflagration which had broken out just beyond the square immediately after the first shock, and had now wholly enveloped several buildings in flames.

AT OTHER POINTS.

Consternation Produced by the Upheaval Throughout the Country. At Augusta, Ga., the earthquake shocks were quite severe, and produced great alarm. The plastering on many houses was broken, people rushed into the streets, women fainted and men were completely unnerved. Most cf the citizens passed the night in the open air. Shocks were felt all over Georgia, but no serious damage was caused. Throughout North Carolina the shocks were quite severe. At Asheville they produced the utmost consternation. The disturbance was accompanied by a rumbling sound resembling distant thunder, buildings quaked, walls vibrated, and terror-stricken men, women, and children in night clothes rushed from houses into the open air. The earth shook and bells tolled in their towers, while the people, in consternation, prayed, fainted or stood dazed by the alarming phenomena. The negroes began a religious meeting in one of the churches, which was kept up all night. At Charlotte, Waynesville and Weaverville, N. C., several houses were wrecked and a number of chimneys toppled over. At Columbia, 8. C„ no less than sixteen distinct shocks were felt. The first shock was fearful, and houses were shaken as though made of pasteboard. It seemed as if everything must topple. The rumbling in the earth was loud and horrifying in the extreme. Clocks stopped, bells were rung, and damage done to some buildings, principally by toppling chimneys. Two rooms in the Governor’s mansion were wrecked. There were numbers of cases of nervous prostration, and, doctors were in demand to compose the frightened people. A large political meeting was being held in the Court Bouse, but it adjourned in a panic. The walls of the Court House were cracked, and one partition badly so. The colored people assembled in the streets, praying. At Murphysboro, 111., the shock was quite severe. Brick walls shook, glassware clinked, and hanging lamps were sent swinging like pendulums. Doors vibrated as if shaken by unseen hands. The fire bell on the court house kept up a rapid fire alarm for more than a minute. At Docatur, Hl., the shock was felt quite sensibly. It rattled and shook articles in dwellingsand swayed business buildings slightly north and south. Occupants of rooms ran out into the street. No damage, but some fright. At Greenville, Hl., there were lively shocks, at intervals of about half a minute, and buildings were rocked under their action, but no damage was done. At Jacksonville, Hl., buildings vibrated from east to west, tables and other articles tipped, and people were greatly frightened. At Vicksburg, Miss., the City Council was in session, and the City Hall, a very frail building, constructed on high brick pillars, under which is the eity market, was made to rock so that the board adjourned suddenly and unceremoniously. The shock was also felt in other places throughout the city. At Hannibal, Mo., the walls of the brick buildings trembled, and in some- cases swayed. One or two meetings adjourned hastity, and the printers in the Journal office dropped their sticks and prepared to run, but the shock was over before they got started. Three distinct shocks were felt at Cairo, 111., lasting about ten seconds. People ran from their houses in a fright. Clocks throughout the city stopped or were disarranged. Everything pendent swung to and fro, while the vibrations of buildings were frightful. The shock was generally felt throughout Richmond, Va., and the excitement was intense. At Pittsburgh the hotel guests rushed into the streets panicstricken. At Media, Pa., dishes were thrown from shelves, elocks stopped, and occupants of the houses rushed out, screaming with terror. At Louisville, Ky., the shock was qui e severe, and lasted half a minute. At Detroit, Mich., the shock was so great as to frighten the occupants of buildings, who stampeded for the streets At Cincinnati, printers in the Sun office thought the building was falling, and abandoned their cases. There was a panic in the Republican office, at St. Louis, the printers rushing pell-mell from the building. The shock resembled the motion of a series of water waves. The guests occupying the upper floors of the Southern and Lindell Hotels rushed down-stairs badly frightened, fearing that some catastrophe was about to occur. At Memphis, Tenn., the shock was severe, and the motion was north to south, lasting fully ten seconds. It had a rapid oscillating movement. Great consternation was felt. At Washington, D. C., two shocks occurred, the second of longer duration and more severe than the first, and a few seconds latter. It was felt in all parts of the eity, creating considerable consternation. At Indianapolis, Ind., the shock was of a tremulous, quivering character. Many guests otthe Denison House rushed from their rooms, in alarm, and similar scenes were witnessed in a number of other buildings. At Cleveland, Ohio, the shock caused great consternation, and almost a panic occurred in two theaters. At Terre Haute, Ind., two distinct shacks were felt. Windows were rattled and in several cases plastering was dislodged from ceilings. A large audience waa present at the Opera House attending a minstrel show. The building shook until people became panic-stricken, being under the impression that the structure was about to fall. Those in the galleries felt the shook most severely, and they rose and made a rush for the exite. The crowds in other parts of the house followed, women screamed, an 1 there was struggling and rushing for the doors. Almost the entire audience fought its way to the st eet. At New York the shock was plainly felt. In the upper stories of the tall Western Union building the waves were plainly discernible, and persons walking about experienced the sensation as of falling. At Columbus, Ohio, the shock was quite severe. At the Central Asylum for the Insane, the largest building for insane in the world, furniture waa turned around, and the patients became so alarmed that the attendants had trouble in getting them to return to their wards. At the Institute for the Blind the shock was so strong that rocking-chairs on the floor were made to start in motion, and the chandeliers were swayed to and fro. The teachers at the Blind Institute refused to return to their rooms after running to the main audienceroom below. At this point it was accompanied by a low, heavy, rumbling sound. At Columbia, 8. C., there were ten distinct shocks. Some of the monasteries in England in the eighth century were presided over by ladies. There was a very famous one at Whitby in Yorshire which was ruled by the Abbess Hilda. She belonged to the royal family. She trained up many clergymen, and no less than five bishops. Ca dmon, the first English poet, dwelt in her abbey.