e end windows over which was painted
the impotent warning of "Any person injuring this car will be dealt with
according to law."

Curious Finds of Workmen.

The workmen find many curious things among the ruins, and are, it should
be said to their credit, particularly punctilious about leaving them
alone. One man picked up a baseball catcher's mask under a great pile
of machinery, and the decorated front of the balcony circle of the Opera
House was found with the chairs still immediately about its semi-circle,
a quarter of a mile from the theatre's site.

The mahogany bar of a saloon, with its nickel-plated rail, lies under
another heap in the city park, and thousands of cigars from a
manufactory are piled high in Vine street, and are used as the only dry
part of the roadway. Those of the people who can locate their homes have
gathered what furniture and ornaments they can find together, and sit
beside them looking like evicted tenants.

The Grand Army of the Republic, represented by Department Commander
Thomas J. Stewart, have placed a couple of tents at the head of Main
street for the distribution of food and clothing. A census of the people
will be taken and the city divided into districts, each worthy applicant
will be furnished with a ticket giving his or her number and the number
of the district.

The Post-office Uniforms.

Across the street from the Grand Army tents is the temporary
post-office, which is now in fairly good working order. One of the
distributing clerks hunted up a newspaper correspondent to tell him that
the post-office uniforms sent from Philadelphia by the employees of that
city's office have arrived safely and that the men want to return thanks
through this paper.

The Red Cross Army people from Philadelphia have decided to remain,
notwithstanding General Hastings' cool reception, and they have taken up
their quarters in Kernville, where they say the destitution is as great
as in what was the city proper.

The Tale the Clocks Tell.

The clocks of the city in both public and private houses tell different
tales of the torrent that stopped them. Some of them ceased to tick the
moment the water reached them. In Dibert's banking-house the marble
time-piece on the mantel stopped at seven minutes after 4 o'clock. In
the house of the Hon. John M. Rose, on the bank of Stony Creek, was a
clock in every room of the mansion from the cellar to the attic. Mr.
Rose is a fine machinist, and th