without doubt, the finale.

In the meantime there was "a rush" indoors such as we never before had.
Many carried hearts saddened by the loss of friends or property. Some
had not slept for days. At the tables, at one time, sat two beggars, and
a number of millionaires. Some who had reckoned themselves rich a few
days previous were now beggared. The great wreck of the night before was
going rapidly to pieces. With a mighty force, the still angry breakers
dashed high over the decks of the ship. Masts and rigging went down
hourly, and ropes dangled in mid-air, while men unloading coal and
lumber worked like beavers at windlass and derrick, which creaked loudly
above the noise of the waters.

More and more was the ship dismantled. When the storm cleared, and the
sun came out next day, the scene was one of wondrous grandeur. Nothing
more magnificent had I ever before beheld. Great masses of water,
mountain high, rolled continually landward, their snowy crests
surmounted by veils of mist and spray, delicate as the tracery on some
frosted window pane. As the sun lifted his head above the horizon,
throwing his beams widely over all, each mist-veil was instantly
transformed into a thing of surpassing beauty. It could only be compared
to strings of diamonds, rubies and pearls. With a fairy's witchery, or a
magician's spell, the whole face of the waters was changed. Each wrecked
craft along the shore, partially buried in sand, masts gone, keel
broken, and anchor dragged, with the surf breaking over all, was
transformed under the brilliant sunshine, until no painting could be
more artistically beautiful. Under the fascination of it all we forgot
the anxiety, the labor, and suspense of the last days and weeks, and
every moment of interval between work we spent at our door next the
beach, or after the falling of the tide, further out upon the sands.

Many wrecks lay strewn along the beach. Schooners, barges, and tugs lay
broken and helpless. Untold quantities of debris, lumber, pieces of
buildings, tents, boxes, and barrels, all testified to the sad and
tremendous havoc made by this great storm.

In my little room I rested quietly when my day's work was done. The
landlady had taken down an old black shawl I had pinned to the window,
and hung a green cloth shade of ugly color, and too wide by several
inches. It was better than no shade, and I said nothing. For a bed I had
my own cot; for a washstand, a box. At the head of my cot s