The age-herald., 1899-03-19
THINGS DONE,
 HEARD AND SEEN.

There are never any real cyclones in this part of the country at least there has not been one for years. There are storms. mora or less severe, but they are not real cys clones. A cyclone is, meteorologically speaking, a storm, but 1t varies through all degrees of gentleness and severity. Tha large storm-areas are often accompanied by smaller ones called "secondaries;" and the latter, when severe, have popularly, but erroneously, received the name of cyclones. Cyclones are described in the encyclopedia as being whrling storms of large horizon. tai dimensions. The whirling character of these storms was not discovered until about the end of the first quarter of the nineteenth century. A cyclone is character ized by center of low atmospheric press- ure, toward which there is a spiral inflow of air. One peculiarity about storms Is that one rising in the west increases in intensity as 1t goes eastward, but one rising in the south decreases it travels northward.
 Birmingham came near being hit by q wind storm morning last week. when much damage was done in the suburbs. This was probably not in reality a cyclone. Birmingham never had a dsastrous storm in the city proper. This is accounted for probably by the fact that the city is hedged in by mountains. Cyclones hit the noun. tains and pass over.
 "I have seen the wind carrying debris over the city, said an old citizen. "One could tell that there was some disturbance in the air, and I always believed that it was a cyclone passing over"
 The most disastrous wind storm in the history of the Birmingham district was in 1882 The most damage was done at Leeds. Just ten years pr.or to this, in 1872, Bir- mingham was visited by remarkable phe- nomenon that attracted considerable atten- ton. A cioud-burst on Red mountain and a great spiral volume of water rushed down the mountain into the city, carrying trees and shrubbery with 1t. The cloud burst between Sixteenth and Seventeenth streets. The water came down the mountain leav- ing path seventy-fve feet wide. The force of the current was broken at the railroad crossing Eighteenth street. Near this point the Louisville and Nashville railroad had a set of scales, and between the scales and Eighteenth street monster freight en- zine standing on the track. The ter had attained such velocity coming down
  mogul it went over on its side. Then the water spread, and in second it was sixteen or seventeen inches deep in the relay house. near by. A cloud-burst is often er- roneously called a water spout, but the lat- ter is a phenomenon of the sea.
 
 Now that the wondrous tales of the Spanish war are being repeated, the old Iiar of be Iota oi1,iI dressed in spanking new clothes. One of the younger tribe was telling a story the other day which was supposed to explain some wonderful stratgetc feat.
 That's very ordinary" remarked the old reb. Tn fact the scheme your men worked to gain that information was steorotyped and possessed no novel feature. I'll tell you little experience l had at Missionary ridge, which is nothing, as far as I was concerned in it, but then it showed you how our fellows accomplished things. I was a youngster and was detailed to go through small detachment of federal sol- diers down the hill and find out the strength of the force backing them up. I had no instructions as how I would get through the lines. I scratched my head more than once, for I knew that it was a very dangerous mission, as well as an im- portant one. And my head ached before I thought of a scheme. I saw an empty bar- rel lying near and happy idea struck me. I crawled in the barrel and told a partner of mine to carelessly give it start down the hill. On I rolled over rocks, bumpety bump, bump. Of course the old barrel slowed up toward the end of the journey and I rolled right into a party of twenty federals unobserved. Then found that I had lost my revolver coming down the hill, but plucked up courage and single hand ed, got the desired information, captured fifteen of the Tanks and returned safely to my commanding officer. Oh, but that was nothing"
 "But there was one time," continued the old reb, "when I did not feel so proud of my achievement We had been fighting all day and I was very tired and thirsty. I made my way out through the lines walk ing over dead and mangled bodies and stop ping many times to speak a word of con solation to some dying fellow The spring where I went to slake my thirst was in thicket and the water bubbled up from an old stump that had been hollowed out for the purpose. I got down on my knees and leaned my head over in the stump to drink I had taken two or three swallows, and by the way the water was excellent, when a spent shell hit me in the back. Of course it tumbled me over into the spring. The injury was not serious, but I came near strangling to death before could get out. But the fact that I was hit in the back mortified me worse than any thing else"
 The old reb snorted contemptuously at the veteran of f'the Yanko-Spanko war time or two and walked away.
 SIDNEY YOUNG.