The Newtown bee., 1896-11-20

distant thunder was heard, increasing rapidly to a deafening roar. The ground shook and trembled, rose and fell with sickening motion the cabin rocked to and fro, the chimney tottered and the great gum tree swayed violently.
 Aunt Cisly's hands had dropped from Uncle Saufs shoulders at the first sound; for moment the three stood as if sud- denly petrifed, then, with cries of terror that were echoed from all directions, they fell simultaneously to the ground.
 For what seemed long time, but was in reality only 8 moment, the undula- tions of the earth continued, acCOmpan- jed by that awful roaring and grooming as of some colossal subterranean mon- ster, mingled with the crash of falling chimneys and the screams of the panic stricken negroes of the settlement. Then all was still again.
 Uncle Saul lay as if dead. Near him was stretched Aunt Cisly, uttering long, 1 quivering moans interspersed with pious ejaculations.
 Abraham Lincoln, tho trembling all
 oyer with deadly fear, was the first to
 raise his head and glance timidly around.
 Then, pulling his mother by the sleeve,
 he called, softly; "Mammy! Mammy!"
 "Hush, chile !' chattered Aunt Cisly 1 ''DOn' talk! Des' pray, boy-pray . ]
 It's Jedgmnt Day, an oh, ma blessed 1 Lawd, Ise tuck in de midst O ma sins |
 In de ve'y act ob furgittin' ma 'ligion 1
 what I done struv fur so long! o Lawd, 1
 don' jedge me yit Member Ise on'y po', ign'ant old cOlored 'Ooman, Lawd
 An done wucked mighty hawd fur dat
 lille bit O money, what he done tuck an
 stole, an den he'd de impertinence ter lay
 claim to! Gimme lille mo- time, Lawd
 -des' lille mol"
 Hush, Mammy!" urged the boy;
 "tain't no Jedgmint Day tall. It's jest
 8 earthquake, Nanny, like them picters
 l showed ye in the joggyphry. Faint no.''-
 Again that distant rumbling coming
 nearer and nearer, louder and louder,
 until the heavens and the earth seemed
 rushing together; again that awful sick
 ening heaYiDg and straining of the earth and again silence and cessation of mo.
 tion.
 As the second shock began Abraham
 Lincoln threw himself on his face, but as it ceased, curiosity again got the bet
 ter of fear, and finding himself alive and
 unhUrt, he scrambled to his feet. The ; next instant 8 cry of wonder and terror escaped him,
 } "Mammy!" he shouted, seiziDg his mother by the arm, and dragged her to ] her knees. Hook, Nanny! The city! See! Listen!"
 , Only half-conscious, Aunt CisIy gazed 7 off in the direction indicated.
 Where were the myriad lights Of } Charleston, that only 8 few moments before had been twinkling cheerily in , the distance? Vanished! 4 thick black cloud seemed to envelop the entire city,
 lit up in places by Iurid flames; and 2 through the night was borne a sound
 more thrilling even than the voice of the ? earthquak2-a great volume of sound, l the most appalling that ever rises from
 earth to heaven--the united voices of the entire population of great, city lifted up = in one simultaneous outburst of fear and 8upplcation.
 , The most powerful intellect, the , strongest nerves, could not have with l stood such a test; and as if to add the
 last crowning touch of weirdness to the a scene, tall figure, with lighted lamp |, in one outstretched hand, now darted @ swiftly by.
 "Yes, Laval" cried shrin voice : ives, Lawd Hyah ne! Ma lamp done t trimmed an burnin', Lawd.'
 With piercing shriek Aunt Cisly
 struck her hands together and fell prone d to the earth again.
 ] Abraham Lincoln was 8 pIucky boy, d with the excitable temperament and z ingrained superstitions of his race; and l, the apparition of Sister Beauchamp and IT her lamp was the last straw that broke '. down his weakening intellectual back if bone. Ills teeth began chattering, his
 knees gave way muttering; II reck' T Q 'tis Jedgment Day sure 'nough!" he g dropped like log by his mothers side h To the people of the earthquake )f devastated region that was night never
 to be forgotten. It seemed as if day l, would never dawn-as if the sun itself e had been extinguished in the aWfu z cataclysm whose extent they had as yet n' no means of knowing.
 !e No great shock occurred during the le night; but ominous rumblings and jar se rings of the earth at frequents intervals h. kept all nerves on the stretch, and ex rs tinguished every spark of hope as fast I as it fiickered up in the distracted brain d But dawn appeared at last: as serene er and sweet as if nothing unusual hac 1t happened; and the stronger and more h courageous rose up and surveyed the n ravages which the night had partially 70 concealed.
 ,n Of what had happened in the city anc I elsewhere the people of the little settle z- ment, with whom alone we are concerned
 knew as yet nothing; but the aspect ot h their immediate surroundings was suffi is ciently dreary and disheartening. 4 le number of ca bins lay in ruins, and not Z d chimney was anywhere standing. Int
 ground everywhere within sight wal k cracked in places, in others sunken deep k. ly and heaped with sand and rocks, while er uprooted trees in every direction gave t, evidence to the violence of the disturb ,u ance.
 to Many of the Negroes lay in state G. n- lethargy from which nothing coulc