duty all night at the hospital.
Hunting Her Family.
Mrs. Mike Sumoskie, haunted the hospital and the mouth of the shaft all night, just as she had done all day yesterday since the explosion, as she was still doing this morning, looking for her husband and two sons who were buried in the mine and whose fate, like all the rest, is in the most profound mystery. She procured a lantern when night came on and went about with it trying to find her missing ones. During the night, when a couple of the rescuers had thrown themselves down on the cot in the school house, Mrs. Sumoskie went up to them and, lifting the lantern to their faces, peered into them to see if they were her men. Joe Purcley, the lamp-tender at the mine, this morning revised his estimate of the number of lamps he gave out before the explosion, and instead of its being 150, he said this morning that he had given out 180 lamps. Casks of oxygen were ordered from Pittsburg this morning for facilitating the work of purification of the mine.
The body of Selwyn M. Taylor has not yet been brought to the city. It was placed in the office of the company near the mouth of the shaft until an undertaker could come from Pittsburg to take charge of the remains. A small cut on the forehead and a few scratches on the face are the only marks on the body, and this was caused when he was overcome by the after-damp and fell on the floor of the mine. Inspector Cunningham, the last man out of the mine at 5 o'clock this morning, said at 10 o'clock that he had no reason to revise his statement that probably all those in the mine had perished.
Expect the Worst.
That the worst is to be expected in connection with the fate of the entombed men is evinced at the county coroner's office. Coroner Jessie M McGeary this morning dispatched three deputy coroners to the scene, and the morgue officials have been instructed to prepare for the reception of many bodies. From an early hour this morning there had been a steady stream of curious people at the Allegheny morgue, bent of viewing the bodies of John Waldman and Henry Mayhugh, two of the victims of the Cheswick mine disaster, who were brought to the top immediately after the explosion yesterday and succumbed to their injuries during the afternoon.
Try Rescue Again.
At 10 o'clock a volunteer rescue party of eight, accompanied by an inspector, swung down the shaft. An hour later another volunteer eight and another experienced inspector entered the cave of death while women, children and aged men, together with the anxious throng wait at the pit mouth tramping in the six inches of fresh fallen snow. The creaking of a cable pulley about the shaft is the signal for a rush towards the shaft but although the mine bucket has made many trips not one of the imprisoned miners have come out today. Bodies will soon come, however, rescue volunteers are now coming to the front fast enough. A squad of Pittsburg policemen now suround[sic] the pit mouth and they find a hard task in restraining the almost crazed relatives of the imprisoned miners upon whose countenances is deeply furrowed with agony born of love and suspense.
Last Hope Has Fled.
The last vestage of hope has fled and there will be no hurry now. Brattice the mine, close up the entries; protect the life that seeks the remains of the dead. These are the latest orders of the inspectors. The air in the mine is now pure; there shall be no more sacrifices. Word came from Inspector BELL who was in the mine at noon. The men are dead. They are piled against the north shaft. The explosion occurred near the south shaft. The north shaft is stuffed as solidly as if rammed with a mammoth ramrod, and human bodies form a large part of the wadding. There is no need of haste. The mine must be bratticed. The air must be kept pure. The rescuers must string out for when the barricks to the north shaft is broken through there will be an inrush of after damp.
Some time will be consumed in introducing the necessary precautions but it will not be long now until the heroic efforts led by intelligent and experienced men wi