ten others, whom he has welcomed to share what he has.
Said one of these "We are all obliged to go to the general department
for supplies, for we could not live otherwise. Our houses have not been
touched, but we have given away nearly everything in the way of
clothing, except what we have on. There were two little stores up here,
but we purchased all they had long ago. It does not matter whether the
people are rich or poor, they are all compelled to take their chances.
In Prospect are the quarters of the Americus Club, of Pittsburgh, an
organization which is widely spoken of as having distinguished itself by
furnishing meals to any and every hungry person who applied."

An Incident.

As two newspaper men were about to descend the hill, after visiting a
number of points, a little woman approached and made an inquiry about
the running of trains. She was one of the survivors and wished to reach
Clearfield, where her grown-up sons were. "I'd walk it if I could," she
said, "but it's too far, and I'm too old now." She was living with her
friends, who have taken care of her since her home was swept away.

A Distributing Point.

At the base of the long flight of wooden steps that lead to Prospect is
the path extending across to the Pennsylvania Railroad station. Here is
one of the principal distributing points. Three times each day a
remarkable sight is here to be witnessed. Along the track at the eastern
end, from the station platform back as far as the freight house,
standing upon railroad ties, resting upon piles of lumber, and trying to
hold their places in the line of succession in any position possible,
crowds of people wait to be served. Aged, decrepit men and women and
little girls and boys hold baskets, boxes, tin cans, wooden buckets, or
any receptacle handy in which they may carry off provisons for the day.

Sad Sights.

The women have, many of them, tattered or ill-fitting clothing, taken at
random when the first supply of this character arrived, their heads
covered with thin shawls or calico sun shades. They stand there in the
chilly morning wind that blows through the valley along the mountains,
patiently waiting their turn at the provision table, making no complaint
of cold feet and chilled bodies. In the line are people who, ten days
ago, had sufficient of this world's goods to enable them to live
comfortably the remainder of their lives. They are massed in solidly.

Guards of soldiers stand at sho