The afternoon after the fire had exhausted itself, the atmosphere was
hot, the great beds of coals gave out heat and glowed brightly at night.
The more I saw of this desolation, the worse it looked. I barricaded my
windows the best I could with mattresses and rugs, as the wind was a
little chilly. They stayed that way for about two weeks. The front of my
house was blistered and blackened by the intense heat. The paint melted
in a peculiar way, and over two of the windows it hung like drapery.
This morning (Saturday, the 21st) a man with a policeman came to the
door and demanded blankets, cover-lids, pillows, and mattresses. I gave
all I could spare, and some draperies besides. They insisted on taking
the rugs from the floor, and I had much difficulty in making them see
that rugs were not what they needed. The telegraph and telephone wires
made a network on every street, and for more than two weeks I carried in
my pocket a pair of wire cutters, which I had often occasion to use.
During the week following the fire, I found many water-pipes leaking,
and I went around with a hammer and wooden plugs and stopped them, in
hope to raise the water sufficient to have a supply in my house. I think
I succeeded. This morning (Saturday) I was hungry, with nothing in my
house to eat. I found a fireman on the street who gave me one of two
boxes of sardines which he had, and a stranger gave me soda crackers, so
I had a pretty fair breakfast under the circumstances.
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