The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-09-22


 you know"
 "The fire, or-or the other matter?" gurgiingly asked the face in the night cap.
 "Bothw replied the apprentice. some- what confused but laughing with Miliy as the shost-lIke object disappeared be- hind the closing door ylslbly shaking with merrment.
 Perhaps an hour more had passed in that delicious, quiet and tender restless ness of love. of a love that was full, sincere and perfect now. with all the asperities of the former days gone and only the ordinary happy trust of com mon people remaining. when m ex- plosion was heard that shook the old tenement until 1t rattled and jingled like merryandrew. and n rumble and roar as of the voices of despairlng thousands flooded over the little court into the vestmaker's home; while above 1t all, mingled with the rapid Falling of burning brands upon the slivering | shingles. came those shouts which car ried with them such terrible meaning: There Is no hoper and 'The city Is | doomed!'
 In those hours, so memorable that | there Is scarcely a spot under the sun where some part of ther awful story has not been told; in those hours of sudden fear, of heart-rendlng agony and terrible death, there was but one thing left for this little family. as for countless families, to do, and that was to instantly endeavor to save their lives, If possible, and leave all else be- hind.
 Almost before the shock of the cx- plosion had subsided, showers of brands were tumbling around the caves of the old tenements forming the little old court. and serpents of flame were wriths ing in and out among the timber in a horribly fantastic way.
 It might have grown brighter and brighter-for where does it not where love exists?-as they had sat there, and some dim consciousness of 1t all might have come upon them: but 1t was not until now that a full know ledge of what was in that cry, "The city is doomed"' was realized; and, as if moved by single impulse, they rushed to the vestmaker's room and almost dragged the mortified couple out of their beds.
 Deathly white. John Hicks groped his way tremblingly to the great easy chair, holding 1t as a dear friends hands for the last time. Great tears of anguish rolled from his eyes, and as he pitifully looked around the little place where there had been such happy, happy days, where so much that his long life had gathered was stored, it seemed as though his distracted heart must break.
 Mother, mother!-Milly, Milly. How can we leave it?" he cried in frenzied despair.
 Mother managed in some way to moan that the Lord would provide, while they were compelled to almost tear the vestmaker from the spot; and as, half-crazed and wholly desolate, they sped from the little nest, he agon izedly clutched backward towards it with his rough working hands, as did thousands upon thousands of others that dolorous night, moaning piteously again and again:
 Dear, dear old home!-good-byew
 And now, if never before and if never again, the vestmaker's apprentice was given an opportunity to show what manner of a man he was.
 It was the one and only outdoors prayer meeting Chicago had ever known; and the abject conditions en- forced by terror took form and aspect as fantastic and horrible as the sub jects were almost numberless and far separate in circumstance.
 Crowded, torn, forced forward by re- sistless streams of frantic refugees, or thrown aside with a blow or curse; falling from exhaustion and suffocation, and spurred by the feet of others until reused again by despair; they fought their fight with death all that dreadful night, and struggled for this dear life of ours as only despairing souls can show their desperate might.
 Then the morning came, more terri ble in it's sickly glare than the red glory of the night, driving the witless thous- ands over and beyond the river and into the cold waters of the lake; and there, on the sands in and out of the u, but dead from physical fatigue and mental suffering-they saw their be- loved city go down like a bunch of reeds, knowing no earthly hope be- yond.
 As that fateful day dragged on, they were driven, driven onwards; and when the flames and the shadows of the night struggled for mastery they were forced pitilessly from each halting place. At last the old French cemetery was reached; and stumbling among the neglected graves, on which were al- ready flung thousands of exhausted suf- ferers, the apprentice led, carried and dragged his charges to the foot of a mound, on which stood large vault, filled with lost and moaning children, guarded by single determined sentinel who kept the almost frantic beseigers away with a desparate success which attracted Ned's attention even in his miserable distraction.
 Packed full of little ones! And, by the EteVal! I'll brain the first ruffian of you that attempts to enter- he would shout, while frantically swing ing his club about him.
 It was honest Bob White, ragged, blistered and bruised. who was succor- ing every wailing child that fled that way and thus heroically defending them. Realizing it all, Watson rushed upon him with God bless you, Bob!" l unheeding the stinging blow from Rob's