"I think it was during our sixth week in Galveston, when, happening to pass one of these primitive crematories, I stopped to interview the man in charge. Boards, water-soaked mattresses, rags of blankets and curtains, part of a piano, baby-carriages, and the framework of sewing-machines, piled on top, gave it the appearance of a festive bonfire, and only the familiar odor betrayed its purpose. "'Have you burned any bodies here?' I inquired. The custodian regarded me with a stare that plainly said, 'Do you think I am doing this for amusement?' and shifted his quid from cheek to cheek before replying. "'Ma'am,' said he, 'this 'ere fire's been goin' on more'n a month. To my knowledge, upwards of sixty bodies have been burned in it--to say nothin' of dogs, cats, hens, and three cows.' "'What is in there now?' I asked. "'Wa'al,' said he meditatively, 'it takes a corpse several days to burn all up. I reckon thar's a couple of dozen of 'em--jest bones, you know--down near the bottom. Yesterday we put seven on top of this 'ere pile, and by now they are only what you might call baked. To-day we have been working over there (pointing to other fires a quarter of a mile distant), where we found a lot of 'em, 'leven under one house. We have put only two in here to-day. Found 'em just now, right in that puddle.' "'Could you tell me who they are?' I asked. "'Lord! No,' was the answer. 'We don't look at 'em any more'n we have to, else we'd been dead ourselves before to-day. One of these was a colored man. They are all pretty black, now; but you can tell 'em by the kinky hair. He had nothin' but an undershirt and one shoe. The other was a woman; young, I reckon. 'Tenny rate she was tall and slim and had lots of long brown hair. She wore a blue silk skirt and there was a rope tied around her waist, as if somebody had tried to save her.' "Taking a long pole he prodded an air-hole near the center of the smoldering heap, from which now issued a frightful smell, that caused a hasty retreat to the windward side. The withdrawal of the pole was followed by a shower of charred bits of bone and singed hair. I picked up a curling, yellow lock and wondered, with tears, what mother's hand had lately caressed it. "'That's nothin',' remarked the fireman. 'The other day we found part of a brass chandelier, and wound all around it was a perfect mop of long, silky hair--with a piece of skin, big as your two hands, at the end of it. Some woman got tangled up that way in the flood and jest na'cherly scalped.'