laces, where they will be most likely to be
identified; about thirty have been identified here and taken away. I
feel hardened to a great deal, and feel God has been so merciful to me I
must do all I can for the unfortunate ones. I hope soon to have some
help from you all, for I have given willingly of my little and my means
are exhausted. I expect we will have to live on ham and eggs next week,
but we are thankful to have that, as I would rather live low and give
all I can, than not to give. All I care about is that Andrew gets enough
to eat, as he needs a great deal to keep his strength up, working as
hard as he does. Now I will close as it is nearly time for him to be
home. Lovingly,

BETT.

Feeding the Hungry.

There are over 30,000 people at Johnstown who must be fed from the
outside world. Of these 18,000 are natives of the town that a week ago
had 29,500 inhabitants; all the others are dead or have gone away. Over
12,000 people are here clearing the streets, burying the dead, attending
the sick, and feeding and sheltering the homeless; all these people have
to be fed at least three times a day, for days are very long in
Johnstown just now. They begin at five o'clock in the morning, two hours
before the whistles in the half-mired Cambria Iron Company's building
blow, and end just about the time the sun is going down. If the people
who are on the outside and who are engaged in the labor of love of
sending the food that is keeping strength in Johnstown's tired arms and
the clothing that is covering her nakedness could understand the
situation as it is they would redouble their efforts. Johnstown cannot
draw on the country immediately around about her, for that was drained
days ago. To be safe, there should be a week's supply of food ahead. At
no time has there been a day's supply or anything like it.

A Crisis in the Commissary.

Twice within the last forty-eight hours the commissary department at the
Pennsylvania Railroad Depot, where nearly 10,000 people are furnished
with food, have been in a state of mind bordering on panic. They had run
out of food; people who had trudged down the hill with expectant faces
and empty baskets had to trudge back again with hearts heavy and baskets
still empty. That was the case on Wednesday night. Then the Citizens'
Committee had to send to the refugee camp, the smallest food station in
the city, and take away 1500 loaves of bread. The bread supply in the
central portion