Year: 1871

uSt he answered, and he stood with his


arms folded as il he were interested mere


ly as a curious spectator. / urged, beg
ged, cried, went on my knees. lie


would not stir, but proposed going back


into the house. This | prevented by en-
treaties, and [ besought him to fly as otli-


ers were doing; but no. A kind of apa-


thetic despair had seized him, and he
stood like rock while the flames swept


nearer and nearer, and my entreaties, and


even my appeals to him to save me, were


utterly in vain Hotter and hotter grew


the pavement, wilder the cries of the


crowd, and ny silk and cotton clothing


began to smoke in spots. | felt beside


myself, and, seizing E., tried TO drag


him away. Alas what could my wo-


mans strength do? There followed
another shout, wild push back, a filling
wall, and | was half block away and


E was gone. Oh, God, pity these
poor worms of the dust, and crush them


not utterly, was my prayer.


How passed the rest of that cruel Sun
day night | scarcely know Wandering,
staring, blindly carrying along my poor
parrot, who was too tired to make sound


| seemed to go in dream. Starting north
to get help, running hack as near to the
flame as | could, in the vain hope of find
ing E., bitterly reproaching myself
that had ever left him for an instant. |
passed three hours of which can hardly
give any account. / know that, as |
turned wildly back once toward Dearborn
street, | saw the beautiful Episcopal
Church of st. James in flames. But they
came on all sides, licking the marble but
tresses one by one, and leaving chnrred or
blackened masses where there had been
white marble. But the most wonderful
sight Of all was the white and shining
church tower from which, as / looked,
burst tongues of fire. and which burnt as
though all the dross of earth were indeed
to be purified away from Gods house for
ever. As the tower came crashing down,
the bells with one accord pealed forth
that grand old German hymn, "All good
souls praise the Lord" almost seemed
to hear them, and to see a shadowy Mich
olas striking the startled metal for the
last time with his brave old hands If
this is right, if it can be right. make me
think so, groaned my soul, and the souls
of many weeping women that night, as
they fled houseless and lost through that
Pandamonium OF flame and tumult.


Constantly faces that | knew flashed
across me, but they were always in a
dream, all blacked and discolored, and
with an expression that | never saw be-
fore, Why, c., is this you?" some
frighted voice would eXclaim, and a kind
hand would touch my disor,lered hair,
from which the hat had long since fallen
of, and some one, only a little less dis
tracted, would whisper hopefully word
about E., that he might not be lost,
that the actual presence of flame would
arouse him, and so on and loved them
for saying So and tried to believe them
Very little selfisliness and no violence did
| see there. Neighbors stopped to reeog-
pize neighbors, and many word was eX-
changed which brought comfort to de-
spailing hearts. Have you seen my
wife and children y would be asked, and
the answer given, " Yes, they ars safe at
Lake View by this time" won't you
Johnny, as the case might be.) Out
would come tablets or papers, or names
or inquiries would be noted down, even
by the man who was making almost SUI
perhuman efforts to save a few goods
from his burning house. Some friend-it
was days before [ knew who-took my
parrot and forced little bottle of tea and
bag of crackers into my hand as | wan
dered, and | was enough myself to give it
to friend, whom found almost fainting
with heat and fatigue, and who declared
that nectar and ambrosia never tasted bet
ter. At last | found myself opposite Uni
ty Church. Dear Unity! will her little
circle of devout worshippers ever come
together again, and worship sometimes,
and work for the poor sometimes, and
sing and play in her beautiful under par
lors sometimes, and love each other al
ways? | know not, but | know that |
wept and beat my hands together, and
ragged hopelessly, when | saw that the
beautiful homes on the west side of Dear
born street were gone, and the Ogden
Public School was one bright biace, while
the graceful and noble congregational
Chulch, next to Mr.. Collyer5s Church,
had caught fire Nothing could save our
pride and joy, our darling for which we
had made such efforts in money and labor
two short years ago, that the fame of Chi
cago muniticence rang anew on our ac-
count through the civilized world


was grieving enough, heaven knows,
over my private woes; but | awoke to
new miseries when l saw our pastors
great heart, which had sustained the
fainting spirits of so many, freely give
way to lamentations and tear, as his pre-
clous library, the slow accumulation of 20
laborious and economical years, fell and
famed into nothingness in that awful fire.
L turned away heart-sick, and resumed my
miserable search after the face which |
now felt almost sure | should never see
again. A new sight soon struck my eye
W hat in the werld was that dark, lurid,
purplish ball that hung before me, con-
stantly changing its appearance like some



cry? 1 looked again. May | never see
the sun, the cheerful daily herald OF com
fort and peace, look like that again. 1t
looked devilish, and pinched myself to
see if was nor losing my senses 1t did
not seem ten minutes since l had seen the
little, almost crescent moon look out.
cold, quiet, and pittiless, through rift in
the smoke cloud, from the deep blue of
the sky.


Two dear children, whom had taught
peacefully on Friday. in our cheerful
school room on Chicago avenue, met me,
crying, oh! have you seen mother? We
have lost her" This appeal brought me
TO myself. l felt that L had something
else to do than wander and grieve; so |
persuaded the lost lambs to go with me to
Il friend on LaSalle street, where | felt
sure we should find help and comfort, and
which everybody supposed would be safe.
Indeed, very curious and rather absurd
feature of this calamity was that nobody
thought his house would burn till he
saw it blazing, and also felt perfectly sure
that was the last OF it, and that he and
his family would be safe little further
up; so the North Siders never began to
pack up till the fire crossed the river. and
then the lower ones moved about to Erie
street, six squares from the river then
stopped. Then they were driven by the
flames another half dozen streets, losing
generally half what they saved the first
time; then to Division street, then to Lin
coin Park, where heaps and heaps of ash
es are all that remain to-day of thousands
of dollars worth of ealables and furni
ture.


Exhausted and almost fainting, weep
ing and sorely distressed, finally landed
III friendly house, far up on LaSalle
street. As [ stepped inside the door,
E appeared, quiet, composed, and al
most Indifferent. Burnt? Oh, no; he
was all right. Did l suppose he was
fool enough to stay and be burned?
There was D too if | wantad to coo