e
seven found together were the Gilmore family, whose house had floated
there. The others, all adults, which, with two or three exceptions,
swell the list of the unidentified dead, are undoubted corpses of the
ill-fated passengers of the east express.

The Church Loses a Missionary.

To-day another corpse was found in the ruins of a Pullman car badly
burned. It was fully identified as that of Miss Anna Clara Chrisman, of
Beauregard, Miss., a well-developed lady of about twenty-five years, who
was on her way to New York to fill a mission station in Brazil. Between
the leaves of her Greek testament was a telegram she had written,
expecting to send it at the first stop, addressed to the Methodist
Mission headquarters, No. 20 East Twelfth street, New York, saying that
she would arrive on "train 8" of the Pennsylvania Railroad, the day
express east. In her satchel were found photographs of friends and her
Bible, and from her neck hung a $20 gold piece, carefully sewn in a bag.

Is it possible that the Pennsylvania Railroad is keeping back the
knowledge in order simply to avoid a list of "passengers killed" in its
annual report, solely to keep its record as little stained as possible?
It can hardly be that they fear suits for damages, for the
responsibility of the wreck does not rest on them.

Two hundred bodies were recovered from the ruins yesterday. Some were
identified, but the great majority were not. This number includes all
the morgues--the one at the Pennsylvania Railroad station, the Fourth
ward school, Cambria city, Morrellville, Kernville and the Presbyterian
Church.

At the latter place a remarkable state of affairs exists. The first
floor has been washed out completely and the second, while submerged,
was badly damaged, but not ruined. The walls, floors and pews were
drenched, and the mud has collected on the matting and carpets an inch
deep. Walking is attended with much difficulty, and the undertakers and
attendants, with arms bared, slide about the slippery surface at a
tremendous rate. The chancel is filled with coffins, strips of muslin,
boards, and all undertaking accessories. Lying across the tops of the
pews are a dozen pine boxes, each containing a victim of the flood.
Printed cards are tacked on each. Upon them the sex and full description
of the enclosed body is written with the name, if known.

The Nameless Dead.

The great number of bodies not identified seems incredulous and
impossible.