He worked all day with the soldiers, and when released to
get lunch he felt that he could conscientiously desert to go and find
his own loved ones."
"Half a block down the street the soldiers were stopping all pedestrians
without the official pass which showed that they were on relief
business, and putting them to work heaving bricks off the pavement. Two
dapper men with canes, the only clean people I saw, were caught at the
corner by a sergeant, who showed great joy as he said:
"'I give you time to git off those kid gloves, and then hustle, damn
you, hustle!' The soldiers took delight in picking out the best dressed
men and keeping them at the brick piles for long terms. I passed them
in the shelter of a provision wagon, afraid that even my pass would not
save me. Two men are reported shot because they refused to turn in and
help."
Many of the dead, of course, will never be identified, though the names
were taken of all who were known and descriptions written of the others.
A story comes to us of one young girl who had followed for two days the
body of her father, her only relative. It had been taken from a house
on Mission Street to an undertaker's shop just after the quake. The fire
drove her out with her charge, and it was placed in Mechanics' Pavilion.
That went, and the body rested for a day at the Presidio, waiting
burial. With many others, she wept on the border of the burned area,
while the women cared for her.
VICTIMS TAKEN FROM THE RUINS.
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