Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-02-25

All the gas jets fed from the main that de-
scended into the valley were extinguished, and
it was apparent that the rush of water had
ploughed up the ground to the depths of the
main, and had ruptured it. Walls that had
run across the direction of the stream had
been thrown over; the communication between
the two sides of the valley was interrupted. 1t
was uncertain whether the bridge was still in
existence. The railway had been overhowed,
and the traffic stopped. The canal banks and
locks had suffered SO severely that it would be
useless for the barges for many months.
TIdngs arrived during the day from the up
per portion of the valley, and it appeared that
the destruction of life and property had been
greatest where the wave burst out from be.
tween the confining hills, before it had space
in which to spread, and in spreading to dis
tribute its force. Heartrending accounts came
in, some true some exaggerated, some false,
but all believed.
That night of terror aud ruin did not see the
roll of death made up. Such catastrophes have
far-reaching effects The wet, the exposure,
the shock, were sure to produce after-sickness
and succeeding mortality
With ready hospitality, the parsonage the
inns, the houses of the well-to-do. were thrown
open to receive those temporarily homeless, and
food, warmth and clothing were forced upon
them. But such as were received felt that they
could not protract their stay and burden un-
duly their hosts, and insisted on returning pre-
maturely to their sodden houses, there to con-
tract rheumatic fevers and inflammations.
Twenty years ago. the author of this story
wrote an account of such a disaster in a novel,
the first on which he essayed his pen. Time
has rolled away, and, like the food has buried
much; and among the things it has swept off
and sunk in oblivion is that book. Probably
not dozen copies of it exist. He may now be
permitted to repeat what was there written,
when the impression produced by the cata-
clasm was fresh and vivid; and let not the rare
possessor of the lost novel charge him with
plagiarism if he repeats something of his
former description.
Near the spot where the Keld left the hills
had stood public house called the Horse
and Jockey" The full violence of the descend
ing wave fell on 1t and effaced it utterly. The
innkeeper's body was never found; the child's
cradle, with the child in it, had gone down the
stream, kept from overbalanciug by the kitchen
cat, and so escaped destruction The beer
casks hoated ashore some miles down, were
never claimed, and were tapped and drunk dry
by some roughs. The sign of Horse and Jockey
came to land 20 miles away, unhurt; it was the
most worthless article the house had possessed.
About mile and half above Mergatroyd was
a row of new cottages lately erected on money
borrowed from building society. They were
of staring red brick, with sandstone heads to
doors and windows; the food carried away
three out of the four.
In the first lived a respectable wool-picker
with wife and children, all Wesleyans. He and
his wife and child were swept from life in
moment, and supplied the preacher at their
chapel with topic for his next Sundays dis
course.
In the second lived a widow, who sold
''spice." that is to say, sweets together with
sundry articles in the grocery line; mighty
woman, rotund and red, with a laugh and
joke Tor everyone; useful woman to mothers
in their troubles, and to children with
the toothache, whooping cough and
other maladies. Black bottle and pep
permInt drops, Mother Bunch's syrup,
soothing powders. porous plasters, en-
brocations. and heal-alls various. and of
various degrees of mischievousness, were her
specifics. and when the doses were nasty her
lemon-drops and sugar-candy were freely given
to cleanse the mouth of the taste of medicine.
Now, she was gone down the river, her lolli-
pops dissolved, her medicines dispersed. Away
she had gone, fioundering and splutterlng, till