he death-bed fears of the infidel, for I have seen seventeen infidels
die and everyone showed the white feather. Nay, those prayers were
unsanctified by the spirit, but let us who are here now living, dedicate
ourselves to the service of Almighty God. There were those who were to
be dedicated that night. I know one who, when it came, sent his family
up the staircase, and taking up his Bible from his parlor table, opened
at the 46th Psalm, first verse, and, following them, read, and the
waters followed him closely. And through the flood he read the word of
God and there was peace in that house while terror was all around it."

Mothering the Orphans.

Dr. Beale announced that Miss Walk wanted twenty-five children for the
Northern Home and then began shaking hands with his congregation and
pressing on them the lessons of his sermon. "Ah, old friend," he said,
to a sandy moustached man in the grand army uniform, "You came safe out
of the flood, now give that big heart of yours to Jesus."

The Baptist congregation also held an open-air service. The unfortunate
Episcopal congregation is quite disorganized by the loss of their church
and rector. They held no service, yet in a hundred temporary houses of
the homeless the beautiful old litany of the faith was read by the
devout churchmen.

The Soldiers' Sunday.

Sunday brought to the soldiers of the 14th no rest from the guard and
police work which makes the Johnstown tour of duty everything but
holiday soldiering. Even those who were in camp fared no better than
those who were mounted guards over banks, stores and supply trains, or
driving unwilling Italians to work down at Cambria City. There was no
shade nor a blade of grass in sight. The wreck of the city was all their
scenery, and the sun beat down upon their tents till they were like
ovens. They policed the camp thoroughly, sweeping the bare ground until
it was as clean as a Dutch kitchen. The boys had heard that Chaplain
Maguire was to preach and they didn't leave a straw or a chip in his
way.

A Young Guardsman's Suicide.

A sun-browned young soldier of C Company, 14th Regiment, sat on the
river bank in front of the camp this afternoon and watched across the
valley the fire-scarred tower of the Catholic Church, blown to complete
ruin under the force of dynamite. After the front had sunk into a brick
heap, he arose, looked down once at the sunny river and the groups of
many soldiers doing there week's washin