The Telegraph-courier. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1888-1946, 1889-06-13

through putrifaction that grinning skel-
eton would show as much resemblance TO
the persons in life as they. Almost every
stroke of the pick in some portions of the
city to day resulted in the discovery of
another victim, and although the funerals
of the morning relieved the morgue of
their crush before night they were as full
as ever.
Wherever one turns the melancholy
view of coffin is met. Every train into
Johnstown was laden with them, the bet
ter ones being generally accompanied by
friends of the dead. Men could be seen
staggering over the ruins with shining
mahogany caskets on their shoulders
Several stumbled and fell into the abound
ing pits. The hollow houses of the dead
went bouncing over the stones like drums
in funeral march. The coffin famine
seems to be alleviated.
The enormity of the devastation wrought
by the flood is becoming more and more
apparent with every effort of the laborers
to resolve order out of chaos. Over 100
men have been all day engaged in an
effort to clear narrow passage from the
death-bridge upward through the sea of
debris that blocks the Conemaugh for
Eearly half mile. Every ingenuity known
The giant power of dynamite was brought
into requisition, and at frequent intervals
the roar of explosions reverberated
through the valley, and sticks, stones, and
logs would fly high in the air. Gradually
few of the heaviest timbers were demol-
ished and the fragments permitted to tioa
downward through the center arch. At
nightfall, however the clear space above
fEn Ir.id I mt IF c;1 fxy
feet in length, by forty feet in width.
When one reflects that fully twenty five
acres are to be cleared in this way the task
ahead seems an interminable one. But
there is no royal road, and if the hundreds
or thousands of bodies beneath these black
eneu ruins are to be recovered for Christian
burial the labors of to-day must be contin-
ued with increased vigor
There are many conservative minds that
recommend the use of the torch in this
work of clearing the river, but they are
not among the sufferers, and when such
counsels are heard by those whose wives,
children, sisters, or brothers rest beneath
this sea of fiotsami and jetsam, this sug-
gestion of cremation meets wild furore
Of objection. 1t is only in defe. ence to
the unrea ,oning mandate of grief that the
hurculear labor of clearing the river by
means of the dynamite and the derrick is
persisted in. There IS no hope in the
calmer minds that this task can be pursued
to the end.
The progress to- day is hardly discerni-
BILE, and ere two days more have elapsed
there is little doubt that the emanations of
putrid bodies will have become so fright
ful as to drive the hardest workmen from
the scene. Until that time arrives how
ever, there is no hope that the grief -strick-
en- populace will abandon the cherished
hope of again gazing upon the forms of
loved ones whose lives went out in the fire
and flood Of the Conemaugh. The plead
ings of sanitarians and the logic of engi-
ncers alike fail to find an echo in the
minds of the grievlng and afflicted, but in
a few more days the sterner logic of nature
will assert itself, and in the face of impos-
sibillty the task of cremation will become
Christian duty.
Where Johnstown's principal stores
stood last Friday are now pitched 1000
tents, and before night this number will
probably be doubled. Under this shelter
are accommodated the workmen who are
trying to clear the streets. Over 5000