"In tracing the ravages of the storm it is most interesting to notice the vagaries of the current, as it affected everything with which it came in contact. In some cases the force would appear to descend vertically in gusts, seizing the top or tops of trees lying together and wrenching off the same as if turnip-tops, leaving the stock intact; whilst other trees within a few feet escaped untouched. Undoubtedly the force of the gale assumed a variety of forms. In some cases it could be seen that the extreme violence of the wind reached a breadth of an eighth of a mile, more or less, when in other places it was only a few yards wide, clearing everything before it. In other parts it assumed a circular or vortex form, and in its tortuous route decimated everything in its way, tearing up huge trees, as if telegraph poles, and even stripping off the thick bark of the Scotch fir, leaving it as clean as a rinded pole. "So far as we know the buildings have pretty well escaped, only partial damage being done, and in some instances trees which might have smashed down dwelling-houses have been spared, whilst those immediately around the building have been stranded." The Rev. Frederic T. W. Wintle, rector of Beerferris, who, in addition to severe damage to his residence suffered considerably from loss of trees, contributes the following information which was written on the Wednesday after the blizzard:-- "The barometer on Monday morning at 9 A.M. had risen from 29·60 on Sunday to 29·70. About 12 noon slight snow began and continued, but did not lie much until towards evening; the gale freshened towards sunset, and at 7·30 was furious. One of my chimney-stacks fell at that time, wrecking the roof and three rooms, and it blew a hurricane for some hours, with blinding drifts of fine snow. I dreaded daylight, but was quite unprepared for the horrible desolation around me. I had some fine fir trees, and others, almost everyone was blown down; and oak trees either uprooted or boughs twisted and broken in a remarkable way. I have nineteen good trees all down, and twenty apple trees in an adjacent orchard. Indeed, my garden, of which I was justly proud, is completely wrecked and ruined. The barometer had fallen to 29·20 yesterday (Tuesday) morning, and there was a high wind and fine snow partly falling, partly drifting, till after dark. The average depth is from five to seven inches, but deep drifts all about, five feet at least. This morning (Wednesday) we have a cloudless sky, calm, and barometer 29·60. Great destruction is everywhere. In one orchard over 100 trees are down, in another cherry orchard they are described as lying as if they were mown with a scythe. The roads are mostly impassable with huge drifts, so that we can get no communication at all. No post, no papers. The trains are all blocked beyond Tavistock, and the telegraph won't work. No doubt the accounts of the storm will reveal some curious details. Although the whole of my place suffered so