The patrolman at the Central Market
was accosted ns an early hour yesterday
morning by one of the band of colored
whitewashers with:
“Say, boss, am dis de day?"
“What day?”
“That de nirthquako am to nrrove?”
“Oh, yes. This is the day and date pre
dicted by Wiggins.”
“Dat’s what 1 figgered on, au't he doan’
notch me. I fixed fur dat afore 1 come
down-town.”
“How?”
“Made a tent out in de ya’d by bangin'
up a bed quilt, an’ de ole woman au’chill
'en am huddled under it by dis time. Dey
ain't gwine to let no house be shook down
on ’em this time oh no.”
“That may do said the officer, “but what
if (he ground under them should open and
swallow the family?”
“What! I nebber thought of that.”
“An earthquake not only shakes down
houses, but rends the earth, and some
times tills up old lakes and rivers and
creates new ones.”
“Hi! daa’, Turner?” called the man to
companion a few feet away. "Heah, you
take charge of this brush and pail! I’ze
gwine home!”
“What fur?”
“Kase dat airthquake may come an'
swaller up my lies’ bed quilt and three
cane-bottom cheers! I doan' keer fur the
house, kas dat’s a rented one, but de
pussnal property is what I’ze gwine to
save or perish wid de family.
Splitting Ten-Dollar Kills.
Baltimore Sub.
