I got my tea, went to my room, and read awhile, then went to Church; it happened to be a Universalist place that I got into, and did not enjoy it much. I went away kind of dissatisfied and got to the Briggs House at nine-fifteen, not feeling like sleeping. I made myself as comfortable as I could, lit my pipe, and commenced reading the book Mrs. Somerville made me a present of. I had been reading about half an hour when the fire bell tolled three-forty-two three times. I looked out and saw the sky red in the direction of the fire of the previous evening, but paying no attention to it, I turned round and read away. I looked again and saw it was increasing; I tried to read now but it was impossible. I put down the gas, and sat opposite the window watching it; the fire was more than two miles away, still I felt very uneasy, and could not go to bed. It was Sunday night and I did not like the idea of going on a rollicking expedition after a fire, but I could not make myself easy anywhere, and I concluded to go see it; so I took off my Sunday clothes, put on a pair of drawers (I felt chilly the night before, so took the precaution to make myself warm this night, and it was well for me I did as my story will show during its progression), an extra undershirt, an old warm coat and vest, and sallied out at ten-fifteen P.M. October eighth. It was blowing hard at the time, but I got along well, having fit myself out for cold and dirt; having little interest in the city, no friends whose losing property could affect me much, and little property of my own to care for, I felt probably as free and easy as any one who saw that fire. I got up to it at ten-forty-five, but could not get near on account of the heat. How the firemen stood it I don’t know! A general alarm was sounded and thirty steam fire engines were on the spot soon after I arrived. It was a grand sight but hellish in the extreme; streets, houses, trees, and everything in one grand furnace. It was not a blaze like the night before, but a white melting heat; volumes of flames were cut off from the seat of the fire itself and carried over into other streets. In addition to this there was a perfect shower of sparks, all red and glowing. The fall of them was like a fall of golden snow, and as far as the eye could reach upward, the air was filled with them; not only sparks, but burning brands of wood from six inches to two feet long, and from one inch thick to six inches. This may seem incredible but it is true. I saw them myself, saw them fall in the street, and worse than that, on houses with wooden roofs, and on people’s heads, almost knocking them down. The wind was blowing a fearful gale at this time and that accounts for it.