e mechanism of clocks has a fascination
for him that is simply irresistible. He has bronze, marble, cuckoo,
corner or "grandfather" clocks--all in his house. One of them was
stopped exactly at 4 o'clock; still another at 4.10; another at 4.15,
and one was not stopped till 9 P.M. The "grandfather" clock did not stop
at all, and is still going.

The town clocks, that is the clocks in church towers, are all going and
were not injured by the water. The mantel piece clocks in nearly every
house show a "no tick" at times ranging from 3.40 to 4.15.

Dead in the Jail.

This morning a man, in wandering through the skirts of the city, came
upon the city jail, and finding the outer door open, went into the
gloomy structure. Hanging against the wall he found a bunch of keys and
fitting them in the doors opened them one after another. In one cell he
found a man lying on the floor in the mud in a condition of partial
decomposition. He looked more closely at the dead body and recognized it
as that of John McKee, son of Squire McKee, of this city, who had been
committed for a short term on Decoration Day for drunkenness. The
condition of the cell showed that the man had been overpowered and
smothered by the water, but not till he had made every effort that the
limits of his cell would allow to save himself. There were no other
prisoners in the jail.

Heroes of the Night.

Thomas Magee, the cashier of the Cambria Iron Company's general stores,
tells a thrilling story of the manner in which he and his fellow clerks
escaped from the waters themselves, saved the money drawers and rescued
the lives of nineteen other people during the progress of the flood. He
says:

It was 4.15 o'clock when the flood struck our building with a crash. It
seemed to pour in from every door and window on all sides, as well as
from the floors above us. I was standing by the safe, which was open at
the time, and snatched the tin box which contained over $12,000 in cash,
and with other clerks at my heels flew up the stairs to the second
floor. In about three minutes we were up to our waists in water, and
started to climb to the third floor of the building. Here we remained
with the money until Saturday morning, when we were taken out in boats.
Besides myself there were in the building Michael Maley, Frank
Balsinger, Chris Mintzmeyer, Joseph Berlin and Frank Burger, all of whom
escaped. All Friday night and Saturday morning we divided our time
between g