omfort were a matter of no concern whatever.
Sometimes it would seem that great sorrow must have a chastening effect
upon everyone.

From All Parts of the World.

It was a strange gathering altogether, and made one think again of the
remark so often repeated in "No Thoroughfare," "How small the world is."
All the ends of the earth had sent their people to meet at the disaster,
and the tide of human life flows on as recklessly as the current of any
sea or river. Here weary, sleepy and sad, was Jacob Schmidt, of Aspen,
Col. He had been a passenger on the Pittsburgh day express. He was
standing on the platform when the flood came and by a lurching of the
car he was thrown into the boiling torrent. He managed to seize a
floating plank and was saved, but all his money and other valuables were
lost. That was a particularly hard loss to him, because he was on his
way to South Africa to seek his fortune. Behind him was R.B. Jones, who
had come from the other side of the globe; in particular from Sydney,
Australia, and met the others at Altoona. He was on the way for a visit
to his parents in York County. He was on the Chicago Limited and just
escaped the danger.

In a front car was Peter Sherman, of Pawtucket, R.I. He was tall and
broad shouldered and his sun-browned face was shaded by a big soft hat.
He was on his way from Texarkana, way down in Texas, and he too was at
Conemaugh. He was a passenger on the first section of the day express.
He had not slept a wink on the way down from Altoona, and he told his
story spiritedly. He said: "I heard a voice in the car crying the
reservoir is burst; run for your lives! I got up and made a rush for the
door. A poor little cripple with two crutches sat in front of me and
screamed to me to save him or he would be drowned. I grabbed him up
under one arm and took his crutches with my free hand. As we stepped
from the car the water was coming. I made my way up the hill toward a
church. The water swooped down on us and was soon up to my knees. I told
the cripple I could not carry him further; that we should both be lost.
He screamed to me again to save him, but the water was gaining rapidly
on us. He had a grip of my arm, but finally let go, and I laid him,
hopefully, on the wooden steps of a house. I managed to reach the high
land just in time. I never saw the cripple afterwards, but I learned
that he was drowned."

A Great Loss.

A tall, heavily built man, with tattered garments