Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1903-04-18


swayed and crashed backward upon
the lower buildings behind, where at
once fire broke out in a dozen places.
To the friends it seemed as if the air
suddenly filled with groans, with ap-
peals, with cries that were like curses,
like walls Of spirits that had been de-
MED all earthly happiness and by the
greed Of selfish man had now been con-
signed to endless torments in the
other world, there to be subject to the
furies' rage, to the ceaseless suffering
that earth had begun and hell existed
to perpetuate.
And oh, for you, little child of the
tenements! Nameless heroine. crushed
into shapeless form of horror, still.
faithful to your charge, both going
down together into that grave of fire,
who shall deliver your eulogy, who
shall rear your monument? For one
among those who leaped into the street
lived long enough to tell your story
and to say that you ran back into the
burning building to warn sleeping in
mates and then was snatched away
from the window, from the only place
Of possible rescue, by the very men and
women wakened out of suffocating
death. II there is reward or compen-
sation in the world beyond, the good
God has surely folded you into the
vale of pleasure, into the paradise Of
childhood's playground, that eternity
will provide. For you never knew
what play meant here.
AS the rear wall fell, crushing in the
roofs of the smaller houses near and
spreading the fire into the adjoining
blocks David Barton gripped John Cor
don's arm tight and exclaimed: 'The
wind is changing! Hope House will go
next!
They were on the corner next to Hope
House, and the horror Of the whole sit
uation was suddenly intensified if pos
sible py the danger which now threat
ened the one building in the whole
ward that represented humanity at its
best. The wind had changed to the
east. The rain was increasing. 1t came
down in a steady cold that had no eff
feet on the fire except apparently to
increase it's fury. The awful confusion
was increasing every moment. The
alarm had been sent in for the entire
department. In almost seconds time
the mass Of low wooden tenements that
stood crowded together on both sides
Of Hope House was bursting with fire.
The maddened, panic smitten people
were carrying their goods out into the
streets. Under the shapeless mass Of
hot bricks and twisted iron beams in
Bowen street human forms could be
seen-here a face staring up, here a
hand, foot, trunk Of formless hor-
ror. The whole pile seemed writing,
tangled heap of human agony. Groans
palling. The mass had fallen so near
to the two men that some of the bricks
lay at their feet. Before either realized
what he was doing they were both dig
ging at the CHASTITY mound, Hope House
forgotten for the time being. Their
hands were burned and torn by the hot
bricks and splintered beams. Barton
especially seemed inspired with unusu-
al strength. He was drenched to the
skin. His light overcoat was soon a
mass of tattered rags. He was lifting
a beam that lay across a figure that
had moved a hand thrust out Of the
debris. Gordon was helping him.
tits Mrs. Caylor!' Gordon exclaimed
as the face Of the figure appeared.
The woman was crushed into sick
ening physical mass but she was alive
and conscious.
"It's Mr.. Gordon, Mrs. Caylor!' said
John, with sob, as he tenderly wiped
the face and with Barton's help lifted
off the beam that had crushed her.
The woman gasped and spoke feebly,
but clearly:
do you think I'll see Louie? He was
a good boy-a good boy"
Eyes, yes, Mrs. Caylor, and his body's
straight now, and he's out Of pain"
"A good boy. Yes, out of pain now"
she murmured. Gordon and Barton
lifted the form and carried it over to
Hope House entrance. There was no
need Of words. No other place was
possible. AS yet the fire had not
touched it. The crowd that surged
through Bowen street had suddenly
left everything else unsaved to protect
Hope House. Miss Andrews was out
by that tangled heap of torture and
death, digging with her hands at the
monstrous pile, working with mans
energy and shaming more than one
man by her calm but determined cour-
age.
But Hope House had suddenly come
to mean more in few seconds than it
had meant in a dozen years to the peo-
pie. That silent, pale, resolute, awfully
patient woman who had been loving
them resistlessly all these years, who
was now over there digging at the liv-
ing graves of the people, what of the
place called her home, the center of
her benignant influence? It should not
perish. The people of Bowen street
surrounded the place and fought death
for grim hour, aided by REINFORCE
ments of the department. In almost
dream of action Barton and Gordon
h01 s1s~ k@l g. IT. "a