rowned while trying to get to the top of the building.

One hundred and seventy-five of the corpses brought to Nineveh by the
flood were buried this afternoon and to-night on the crest of a hill
behind the town. Three trenches were dug two hundred feet long, seven
feet wide and four feet deep. The coffins were packed in very much as
grocers' boxes are stored in a warehouse. Of the two hundred bodies
picked up in the fields after the waters subsided 117 were unidentified
and were buried marked "Unknown." Twenty-five were shipped to relatives
at outside points. In many cases friends of those who were recognized
were unable to do anything to prevent their consignment to the trenches.
Altogether twenty-seven were identified to-day. The bodies as fast as
they were found were taken to the storehouse of Theodore F. Nimawaker,
the station agent here, and laid out on boards. It was impossible on
account of their condition to keep them any longer. The County
Commissioners bought an acre of ground for $100, out of which they made
a cemetery.

By Locomotive Headlights.

It was sad to see the coffins going up the steep hill on farm wagons,
two or three on each wagon. No tender mourners followed the mud-covered
hearses. Enough laborers sat on each load to handle it when it reached
its destination. The Commissioners of Cumberland county have certainly
behaved very handsomely. The coffins ordered were of the best. Some
economical citizens suggested that they buy an acre of marsh land by the
river, which could be had for a few dollars, but they declared that the
remains should be placed in dry ground. The lifeless clay reposes now
far out of the reach of the deadly waters which go suddenly down the
Conemaugh Valley. It is a pretty spot, this cemetery, and one that a
poet would choose for a resting place. Mountains well wooded are on
every hand; no black factory smoke defaces the sky line.

Two locomotive headlights shed their rays over the cemetery to-night and
gave enough light for the men to work by. They rapidly shoveled in the
dirt. No priests were there to consecrate the ground or say a prayer
over the cold limbs of the unknown. Upon the coffins I noticed such
inscriptions as these: "No. 61, unknown girl, aged eight years, supposed
to be Sarah Windser." "No. 72, unknown man, black hair, aged about
thirty-five years, smooth face." Some of the bodies were more
specifically described as "fat," "lean," and to one I saw the term
"