“From the dark earth impervious vapors rise, Increase the darkness and involve the skies. At once the rushing winds, with roaring sound, Burst from th’ Æolian caves and rend the ground; With equal rage their airy quarrel try, And win by turns the kingdom of the sky. But with a thicker night black Auster shrouds The heavens, and drives on heaps the rolling clouds, From whose dark womb a rattling tempest pours, Which the cold north congeals to haily showers. From pole to pole the thunder roars aloud, And broken lightnings flash from every cloud. Now smokes with showers the misty mountain ground, And floated fields lie undistinguished ’round. Where late was dust, now rapid torrents play-- Rush through the mounds, and bear the dams away. Old limbs of trees, from crackling forests torn, Are whirled in air, and on the winds are borne.” A casual glance at the papers during the last days of March would have satisfied any one that the storm which passed over the country was anything but insignificant. So far, we have given only the story of a single neighborhood; while a score of others suffered more or less. A brief account of some of these will be of interest, and will give us a far better idea of the character of great storms and tornadoes. The farthest point west touched by a tornado on that memorable day was a strip near the line between Missouri and Kansas, some fifty or sixty miles south of Kansas City. Here, a small tornado made its appearance about five o’clock in the afternoon, demolishing some fences and [Illustration: LOOKING WEST FROM TENTH AND MAIN, LOUISVILLE.] barns, and breaking down a few trees: but, so far as known, no one was hurt. Meanwhile, the main storm had passed eastward much earlier in the afternoon. Shortly after the storm reached St. Louis, violent cyclonic movements were excited in southeast Missouri, upwards of a hundred miles away. At 3 P.M. the little town of Bloomsdale was struck, and five houses were instantly prostrated. The occupants of four of them were, at the time, in the Catholic church, and the family who occupied the fifth escaped unhurt. Two sides of their house were blown away; while one side was blown inward, and would have crushed them but for chairs and tables which sustained its weight. The church suffered the loss of its steeple, and was otherwise damaged. A stable containing seven horses was blown away, and not one of the horses was injured.