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EARTHQUAKE ECHOES. Front the Argonaut. "What's that?" "I don't know. It looks as if the rool were falling in." Thus said my companion and myself. We were driving in a buggy down Broad way, Oakland, and were looking at a .building then called the "Wilcox Build ing." It was the morning of October21, 1S(»S. A« I .-aid, we were looking at this building. A new story had just been added to i!, and we were speculating as to tne fafety of making such additions to buildings whose wills were only desig nated for structures of lesser height. It was five minutes to eight o'clock. We had pulled up, and were looking curi ously at the new story when my com panion made the remark: "What's that?" It did indeed look as if the roof were Jailing in. The walls budged out, the roof seemed to sink, the building moved sli :'itly, and then recovered its perpen dicular. We were both so amazed that :we could only,, .stare in open-mouthed wonder. AT this moment I noticed that the horse was acting queerly. He did not look as if he were going to run away, but simply as if something extraordinary were puzzling his equine brain. I fan cied there might be something wrong with the harness, and giving tne lines )o my companion, jumped out to .see. As my feet struck the ground I thought for a moment tnat I must be mad. The earth rocked beneath me it rocked with such violence that I could Hardly stand. I seized the shaft, partly to steady myself, and partly to get to the horse's head, for he was giving such signs of agitation that I feared he might runaway. As I got to the horse's head, there was a dull, rumbling roar, and a cloud of dust lose up and down the street. Then there was a crashing, jingling sound, and 1 saw many window-fronts upon Broadway falling into the street. Following them came an avalanche of bricks and mortar from falling chimneys and tire-walls. And iast of all came a dense mass of people from the shops and houses. Your human does not move as quickly as inanimate objects during an earthquake. When lie does, he sometimes regrets it, for ifhe arrives at the same time as the falling bricks and mortar, he wishes he hadn't—unless, of course, he be a good Christian, whose salvation is all fixed and his good deeds chalked up, in which case, of course, a "ions joy should pervade his breast. All that I have related took but a few seconds. And in about a minute after the shock began Broadway was filled with runaway teams of every descrip tion. There was at that time an open square, or vacant lot, on Broadway, containing nothing but trees. I remember notic ing these trees, and being struck, even then, at their absurd appearance. (One thinks quickly during an earthquake.) As the waves of the earth-spa3m rolled along, the trees ruse and fell, inclining first to one side, then to the oilier, bob bing and bowing in a ludicrous fashion. Those who were on this side of the bay that morning may think this de scription of the shock exaggerated. But when they consider that the local cen tre of the earthquake of '68 was evident ly at San Leandro, will see that they are mistaken, u. there some buildings were entirely demolished, others twisted upon their foundations, and fissures and cracks opened in the earth many rods in length. Scarcely a chimney waB lelt standing in Oakland or Alameda. A curious phase of the earthquake way the Oelief on the part of the Oak lander? that San Francisco was destroyed. A thick haze hung over the bay. It was impossible to see an^ of the spires and towers of San Francisco. The tele graph wires were down the draw uridge over San \ntonio Creek was thrown out of gen1 »y the shock the train (there was ut one then) was penned up on the other side of the es tuary. The only way of reaching the city was ly freight-boat which the]' ran on" the creek. To this repaired the anxious Oaklanders and we still more anxious 8an Franciscans. On the little pier at the foot of Broad way was a crowd of several hundred men. It was divided into little groups, in the centre of each of which was an excited man, telling where lie was and what he did at the time of the shock. lie was perpetually being interrupted by other excited men, who wanted to tell what they did and where they were. Every man in every uroup was engaged in moving his arms inri-tnill-wise, to illustrate how the c.irth had quivered. In moments of ex citement the Anglo-Saxon race becomes ::s eesticulative as the Latin. One man in particular I remember. le was one of those small men with im mense fustian voices—one who could jiitroar any one else, and by virtue oi i:is superior lung power had succeeded in telling his personal expsrience over any number of times. As soon as he had finished it, he began ugain. I may •. be necessary to remark here hat all through the morning of the 21st nere were continuous shocks. People id their nerves completely unhinged the first shock, and the geutle yet minous oscillations of mother earth .Naptthem permanently so. I will further nark (apparently without coherence) tthere was an immense heap of coal up on the edge of the pier. The little man with the big voice was talking. His oration rail thus: I'OU see, we had jist got up from 'kfast when that there first shock -i'i. My wife she started to run. I to her, 'Now, Jemima,' says I, itever is the use of runnin." But wouldn't listen to nuthin', so I jist bed her and held her till it was ,\ ". And what do you think?—when shock come to an end, Jemima she .' ted and I was jist as cool aB I am Drip—drip—drip—drip!" he coal was falling into the water ov -r the edge of the pier. Every one tu nod—the slightest noise was ominous. "DHD—drip—drin—drinl flash! Dash! Hpalshl" The pier was rocking to and fro—first gently, then with vigor, then with a vicious thump which meant mischief. There was a sudden absquatulation to dry land. The crowd resolved itself into an immense and swiftly mo ring fan, the apex pointing toward the shore. The apex was our friend, the little man with the big voice. At this point uianv of the Oakland ers lost their interest in San Francisco. They could not be again induced to go unon the pier. They contented them selves with vaguely remarking that they "would wait and see," and with whoop ing up others who ssemed disinclined to "go. At last the boat made tier appearance. I think it was the old ferry-boat Louise, long since disappeared from these wa ters—under that name, at least. It was not a very large crowd that boarded her. There was a good deal ol'talk about tidal waves and hings, and the people looked upon us very much, I fancy, a3 the Spaniards did on Columbus when he set out upon his voyage into unknown seas. Most of us, as I have said, were San Franciscans. On the boat, I remember was Michael Reese. Michael was drenched with woe. He feared that where San Franciseo had reared her fair tower-crowned hill-tops to the sky, there was nothing but ashes, dust, and desolation—hence pecuniary damage to Michael Keese. He was a large, adipose greasy mass of suffering, He even wept. Tears ran down his fat cheeks, and mingled with the imperfectly re moved remnants of his breakfast. A group stood around him, attempt to comfort him. I do not fancy they felt anything but contempt for him, yet they respected his millions. And this blubbering millionaire was being cod dled like a blubbering school-boy. "Ach Gott!" sighed Michael, blowing his nose with a large red bandanna handkerchief, "icli bin ruined! All dose years vat I shtruggle vas tro wn avay. Who couid dell noddings aboud an erd kvaxe, I like to know? Dot is not like a fire. Dose insurance gonipanies dev will not pay me noddings. Lieber Gott Berhaps dose insurance gompanies vos cone up, too." And a fresh burst of tears came to the relief of the over-burdened million aire. John W. Dwinelle approached, and satirically comforted the weeping Dives. "Do not be so cast down, Mr. Reese," said he. "Things are not so bad, I im agine, as they aie represented. We shall presently be in sight of the city, and I think we shall see it standing. Ah, excuse me, Mr. Reese—you had eggs for breakfast, I fancy." And he indicated to the weeper a large mass of ese-velk. unon his star board jaw, partially mixed with tears. Miclntel scrap id it off and resumed" his weeping. But soon we came where the fog-veil was not so thick, and the top of the shot-tower was seen piercing the haze. I remember that some enthusiastic spir its gave three cheers for the safety of the city. And as we gradually ap proached the pier, it was seen that the city Wis apparently all there. We did not learn until later that the shock had been lighter on the San Francisco side than on the other. We hastened up the streets, looking for damaged houses, ruined walls, and corpses. We did not see as many as we had expected. Coming up Clay street however, near Sansorae, there was a frightened boy who, surrounded by a crowd of people, was pointing at a mass of blood and brains on the sidewalk. His jaws were working convulsively, bat no sound came from them, A bystander told me that the boy had witnessed the death of the man who formerly used the brains, and that the sight so horri fied him that he had remained in that condition ever since tne shock—a mat ter of a couple of hours. The man, it seems, had run out of the building when the first shock came, and had got to the sidewalk just in time to catch the tailing fire-wall upon the top of his head. I do not propose to weary my read ers with an account of the earthquake. It is ancient history. But these things came into my head the other morning, when I was awakened at one o'clock by the lamihar vibrating, twisting, grinding, motion—the creaking of the groaning bricks, the ominous rumble of the shud dering metal roof. 1 said to myself: "The most severe shock since '6S." And, 60 saying, these recollections came to me, and I jotted them down. But I will indulge myself in telling one or two anecdotes which I recall. There was a gentleman here from the east at the time, whe had been sighing for an earthquake. I have met many like him, by the way, but I never saw any of them who wanted to feel two. I do not refer to temblors, but to good stiff shocks. No one who has ever felt one wants to leel another. This pilgrim, then had been yearning for an earthquake. Fortunately for him, it came before he went away". He went away as soon as he could get away, 1 may add. He was living in Brenham Piace, and was awakened by the shock. He knew what it was. No man needs an introduction to an earthquake. He fled through the door. He nearly took it with him. He was clad only in a short night-shirt, but despite that fact he went into the centre of the Plaza, and there he remained. He could not be induced to re-enter the house. Fi nally, he hired a small boy to go and get his clothes, and dressed himself be fore the populace. Later in the day he ventured out of the Plaza, and, accompanied by Tommy Newcombe, went to Barry & Patten's to get a drink. The barkeeper mixed the drinks and placed them uptn the coun ter. Newcombe pushed his back, re questing the barkeeper to take the ice out. The other did the same, It was half past ten o'clock. There WAS a slight jingle of glasses, then a crash, and the bar leaned forward and courtesied to the two friends in the most familiar fashion. The barkeeper was almost buried in a vitreous ava lanche. The eastern man knew, with out being told, that this was another earthquake. He made for the street. He cot there before anybody else in the house. This despite the fact that he lacked experience. These Eastern men are very quick to learn about some things—particularly earthtfuakes. He reached the street with such impetuosity that he was on the other side before he knew it. There was a building there be longing to Satn Brannan, the top of which was crowned with two long stones, meeting like a V. One of these fell with the second shock, just as our Eastern friend reached the sidewalk. The stone came shooting down like a conical pro ject'le, struck the flagged sidewalk,made a clean hole and disappeared in the depths below. The hole was about six inches away from the Eastern man. He nearly fell into it. He took the next steamer for home. When this shock took place,! hap pened to be in the Odd Fellows' Bank, then on Montgomery street, opposite where the Safe Deposit building now is. A group of us were talking over the first shock. I remarked that I had not been in a building when the first shock came, but that, had I been, I would have, re mained. I further said that I considered running trom a huildingas highly dango r ous, instancing the unfortunate man who was killed on Clay Street as a case in point. Ail agreed with me. One in particular—a friend named Maillot—re marked: "You are perfectly right. The man who would run out of a building during an earthquake shock is a d—d fool." The words were scarcely out of mouth when the half past ten o'clock shock came. I do not remember very distinctly how 1 cot there, but in about three seconds 1 lound myself in the middle of the street. I have no recol lection of coming down stairs. Strange to say all the other fellows were there too. Maillot looked at me, and re marked, with grim humor: "1 thought you never ran f.-om an earthquake." "I never do." "But you ran then." "No. I didn't run. I flew." So I did. And 1 very much fear I tnav again. Signs of an Open Winter as Re vealed by an Aged Indianian. From tie Terra Haute Express. "What kind of a winter are we going to have uncle?" asked an express re porter of an old squirrel hunter and mink trapper who makeb his home in the hills across the liver. "I kinder calculate that we will have a rather mild winter all the indications point to such." "What signs do you go by uncle?" "I have a good many signs, and I never knew one of them to fail yet. When I sav we are going to have a mild winter, you can depend on it. Haven't 1 lived in this country for forty years, and haven't I watched the winters right along, and ©nghten't I be able to tell?" "Are the corn husks thin this year?" "You better rekon they are. There are only two or three layers of them, and they are as thin as calico. Why, the corn is all dry enough now to go through a snow without injury. The one or two frosts we have had have sucked all the sap out of it." "Are there any other indications be sides the corn husks?" "You better believe there are. Now, when the sun crossed the line the wind blew from the southeast. That indicates a mild winter every time. If it had blown from the north you could have been prepared to hear the wind blow great guns." "Is that all?" "Not by a long ways. 1 could tell you enough to till a book. My dog holed a ground hog the other day. I had nothing to do, so I set to work and dug the animal out. He dida't have a leaf or a twig in his hole hadn't nothing in the shape of a nest" "Isn't it too early for ground hogs to make their nests?" "Now I see how little you know about a ground liog. A ground hog lias his hole dug, or has picked out his lioie, by the first of September. If it's going to be a cold winter he has it filled with leaves by this time." "Is there any thing else?" "Yes. The coons havn't commenced to gnaw the corn. That is a splendid sign. And another sign, and a sign that never fails, the woodpeckers haven't commenced to drum. Now, if this was going to be a cold winter al! the old dead trees mid be covered with red heads pecking away at a hole in which to store nuts." "Isn't it too early tor that yet?" "Not a bit. They should have their holes all pecked bv this time, and be ready to fill them. "There is notasinart er bird than the woodpecker he knows what he's about when he is pecking away at an old limb from morning till night." A Congregationalist in a Uuirer sahst's Pulpit. From the Boston Travler. A good and true story is going the rounds of Boston about the adventure of a worthy Congregationalist pastor, who ministers to a suburban church. He had agreed to supply a Roxbury pulpit for an absent brother. He came into Boston, and promptly took a Highland car for the scene of his evening's labor. In due time he descried a steeple, and reaching the church, got out, walked in, took off bis overcoat in the vestsy, and went straightway to the pulpit. He glanced around on the congregation, and proceeded, after a minute or two's de lay, to give out a good old Congregation al hymn. The congregation proceeded to find the place, the organ gave the tune and the singing began. While it WAS in progress the sexton walked up the pulpit stairs and said to our subur ban friend friend "M will be here in a few minutes." The situation flashed upon him, but, suppressing his emotion, he asked: "Why, isn't this Mr. 's church?" "No, sir," calmly replied the sexton "this is the Universalist Church." There was an exchange of places a few minutes later. The friends of the subur ban minister are now fond of asking him how become to enter the Universalist ministry. He laughs, and solaces him self with the remark "Well I got them te sing a good ortho dox hymn, anyhow." Colonel Michaei Sueridan has bought a house in Washington near that of hii brother, the coming general of the army. Current Paragraphs. The German Emperor astcnishes ev erybody by his vitality. He ia nearly sighty-seven years old, thirteen years jlder than his great ancestor, "Oid Fritz," when tha', monarch broke down, *nd his life has been one of great activ ity. Governor Crosby of Montana, Bays that ene day, when the presidential party were crossing a dryjgulch in North ern Wypming. they saw written in char coal over the door of a vacant cabin the following. "Only nine miles t» water and twenty miles from wood. No grub in the house. God bless our home." Mr. W. D. Howells, while visiting Bal timore lately, was met by a reporter wlic interpreted his views regarding English and American literature as fol lows: "In many respects we excel the English in periodical literature. Our il lustrations are of a much finer quality. The short stories, which are features of our monthly publications,' have few counterparts in England. I think that English customs and English disposi tion tend more strongly to the pub lication ef books than of magazines." How some men do maguify their vo cations. A correspondent of a Vermont paper who has been sending that paper weekly a patch of items about who has had his barn shingled and who has gone a visiting has "severed his connection," as they call it, with the paper, or had it severed for him, and writes a thrilling valedictory, half a column long, which ends as follows: "Kindred spirits are thrown together for pleasure and labor, the tide licks our feet, and, with the web of life all unwoven, t-he delicate silken threads are snapped assunder. We exchange farewells and pass out on the tide. Readers of the Vermont Tribune, we have sailed our heaven bound crafts a few days together. We are in sound of the breakers! Give me your hand—farewell!" Chief Justice Beglie, of British Colum bia, recently said to a jury which had failed to find a murderer guilty: "On your conscience will rest the stigma of returning such a disgraceful verdict, and one at variance .vith the evidence on which you have sworn to find the guilt or innocence of the prisoner. Many repetitions of such conduct as yours will make trial by jury a horrible farce, and the citv of V"ict( na, which you inhabit, a nest of immorality and crime, encour aged by the immunity from the law which criminals will receive from the announcement ef such a verdict as yours. Go I have nothing more to say to you." To the prisoner, who committed the murder with a sand-bag, he then said: "You are discharged go and sand-bag some of these jurvmen they deserve it." There are some very curious laws in Saxony regarding servants, girls more especially. The mistress is obliged by jaw to allow the servant one pound of butter and one of coffee per month, or the equivalent in money. If the girl furnishes her own bedding she secures 11-2 cents per night for so doing. Sev enty cents a month is allowed for her washing, and she receives five per cent, upon all purchases she makes. She is required to give one month's notice be fore leaving her place. The law also re quires that each servant keep a book for recommendations, in which, upon her leaving her place, her mistress is com pelled to 6tate the cause and the girl's character. The question of what becomes of pins has often been mooted but never an swered. Yet it is certainly peculiar that an article of everyday use which is manufactured in numerous quantities should disappear in equal proportion. It is estimated that no less than 50,000, 000 pins are daily manufactured in Eng land and Dublin, and that out of this number 37,000,000 are produced in Bir mingham alone, thus leaving lo,000,000 for the production of Dublin, Stroud and London. The weight of wire, both iron and brass, consumed' for this purpose is 1,2751-2 tons every year. Chicago divorces have been universal ly considered easy of attainmen t, but it appears that in Switzerland, among the lower clasess, a custom prevails that throws Chicago into the shade. There young people marry with the distinct understanding that if they do not iike each other they will separate. If, at the end of the year, they shall mutually declare before a court that they do not wish to remain married any longer, be cause of imcompatibility of tempera ment, they get a divorce. Hymen's chains are looselv worn in Switzerland. The Fascinating Widow. A writer in Harper's observes that the feminine mind is often not a little puzzled to understand why the fascin ations of a widow are so much more po tent than those of a single woman, why it is that in every gathering the widow will carry of tno partners from under the very nose of the spinster who is in the very flower—wall-flower—of her youth. Coes she speak with the tongues of men and angels more than the rest of us? Is she better bred? Does she fl it ter with more skill or dress with more effect? Is she prettier? they ask, per haps. Is it the jointure left by her mar* quia of Carabas, or because she has been indorsed by a lord of creation? Or is it the shadow of an early grief which at tracts, or the exhibition of a most beau tiful resignation? In the young girl's estimation the suttee was about the right kind of a widow. Ought not the only flame left for her be thai of the funeral pyre? And is there not some thing ungenerous, she asks, in a world where husbands are scarce, for a wo man to appropriate more than one? Is it not a sort of denial of immorality? But the young trirl is told that these are the fine-spun feelings of a sentimental ist, that the widow daes r-ght to live in the world, and not, like old mor tality, among graves. Very possibly she may not wish to marrv" agan, but Bhe may not have buried all her little vanities, her love of admiration, her in terest in human kind, especially man kind, in the grave witu tier husband. Isithei fault iftbe men prefer her so ciety? Perhaps it is her very indiffer ence, having pleased one man, whether others are piea&ed or not, that is irresis tible, or the confidence which that fact give?. Perhaps it is because she jiever preaches to them over somebody else's shoulder because tobacco smoke does not affect her because bhe is not afraid, to show her interest because, knowir.a their weakness, she yet likes their soci ety because her unprotected position and her becoming weeds appeal to the manly heart or because she has learned tact in the scrimmage with her hus band's relations. Perhaps through hav ing loved and lost, she has touched a wider gamut of emotions, and her ex perience has made her more interesting than the callow girl. Doubtless society needs widows just as much as it does single women and married people, to give a spice and variety to life, and it would be a thousand pities if the Hin doo custom were to come into vogue in our duv and deprive some of us of a grievance. The Ijieense System in England A careful study of the subject en a 1-1 es me to lav before your readers in this letter an intelligent statement of the regulations under which the retail liq uor traffic is carried on in this cour.try. First all persons engaged in this traflic must have a license. The victualler's li cense allows the person holding it to sell all kinds of drinks, but there are li censes for the sale of beer and cider: others for the sale of beer and whio others for cider and perry, and still oth ers for table beer only or wine only. The houses at which beer is sold, with out spirits, are called "beer houses," to distinguish them from "publics," which, opeiate under a victualler's or "full" li cense. Of the former, not including those which are "licensed to sell only for consumption off the premises, there are 84,077 in the United Kingdom, against 9:i,.'48 of the latter class of houses. The total number of persons in Great Britain and Ireland holding license of one kind or another to deal in and retail exciseable liquors for use as a beverage is 229,097, the revenue from these licenses amounting for the year ling March the Ml, 1883, to nearly $10, (i.0,000. The houses resembling most closely the A meri :as saloon are the two classes already singled out—viz., beer houses and publics, particularly the lat ter. A beer license cost $17.51) a year, and the premises covered by it. to meet the requirements of law must be of an annual rental value of 00 to 150, ac cording lo location. A house'tor which a victualler's li cense is sought must have at least two public rooms in which spirits are sold, and one in which they are not sold, ex cessive of the rooms occupied by the family keeping it. In cities having not. lesa than lt 0,000 inhabitants the annual value of such house must be not less than $100,000 the mininum is $150, Snd elsewhere it is as low as $75. The cost of a "full" license varies according to an annual value of the premises, paid' annual value to be taken at either the amount at which the place is rated, or the amount of rent it brings, or at an independent valuation, as the licensing authorities may determine. If the an nual value were $75 and under $100, the license would be HO a year, and so on in fair graduation, up to a $3,500 house in which case the liconse would cost an annual sum of $350, that amount being the maximum. The license for a house of an annual valuation of $500 would cost $150 a year The power of granting or refusing licenses rests with local magistrates, but should these dignataries refuse to renew or transfer a license when requested to do so, the licenses, having given bonds for the costs, may carry his grievance to the general or quarter'sessions—Correa respondeiice Philadelphia Press. A Npanisii Dandy, Seventeenth Century. His hair was parted on the crown ot lus head and tied behind with a blue ribbon about four fingers' breadth and about two yards long, which hung down at its full length his breeches were of black velvet, buttoned down on each knee with five or six buttons he had a vest on BO short that it scarce reached below his pockets, a scalloped doublet, with banging sleeves, about four Angers' breadth, made of white embroidered satin. His cloak was of black bays, and he, being a spark, had rapped it around his arm, because this was more gallant, with a very light buckler in his hand, and which has a steel pike standing out in the middle they carry it with them when they walk in the night on any oc casion he held in the other t:and a sword, longer than a half-pike, and the iron for its guard was enough to make a breast and back plate. These swords be ing so lone that they ca-not he drawn out anless a man has the arms of a giant, the sheath therefore flies open in laving the finger on a little spring. He had likewise a dagger, whose blade was very narrow it was fastened to his belt on his back he had such a straight coliar that he could neither stoop nor turn alout his head. Nothing can le more ridiculous than what they wear ab nit their necks, for it is neither a ruff, baud, nor cravat. His hat was of a pro.iigious size, with a great band twisted about it, bigger than a mourning one. His shoes were of us fine leather as that whereof gloves are made, and all slashed and cut, notwithstanding the cold, and so exact ly close to his feet, and having no heels, that they Heemed rather pasted on. in entering he made a reverence after the Spanisn fashion, his two legs cross one another, and stooping as women do when they salute one another he was strongly periumed, and they are ail so. Countess Danois. Tweniv-eight parishes of Louisiana were inundated by the Mississippi over flow last year, ana the damage is reck oned at $60,000,000. Seven new hotels, four with 1,000 rooms each, are being built in London.