In Duke Street the meeting-house of the Disciples of Christ (Christians) was situate. This church was built of wood and of course burned very rapidly. The members had their first place of worship in Charlotte Street where Mr. Jack's buildings were. About twenty years ago they removed to this building in Duke Street. Brother Tuttle was the first pastor and Mr. Eaton was the second, Bro. Patterson the next, and Elder Geo. W. Garrity was the fourth and last. A few years ago a division took place in the church, and a new edifice was built at the head of Jeffrey's Hill, and about half of the members of the old congregation linked their fortunes with the new order of things. The old Madras School on the south side of Duke Street, and the Roman Catholic School-house on Sydney Street, adjoining the Victoria School and which was formerly taught by the Christian brothers were burned also. CHAPTER IX. Queen Square--Incidents in the Burning--The Old Pitcher--"God is burning up the World, and He won't make another"--Saved from the flames--Overtaken by Fire three times--The Night of Terror on Queen Square--Alone amidst Perils--The Lone House on the Square--Three People under a Table--The sailor--"If I Die to-night sir, hunt them up"--The escape--The Deserted Streets--An Anomaly--The Marine Hospital--What a few Buckets of Water Did--The Wiggins Orphan Asylum--The block in Canterbury street--The _News_ office--Savings Bank. Some of the most terrible incidents of the fire took place during the burning of Queen Square. The flames carrying away Mr. Manson's residence on the corner of Sydney Street and the square, had entered Mr. A. L. Palmer's house soon afterwards, and then the whole block was hurried to destruction. The square was filled with the savings of the people, not alone of those who lived hard by, but many things were here that had been carried to the vacant space from a long distance early that day. There was bedding in abundance, and all round about little heaps of general household stuff lay guarded by women and boys. This for a time was the haven of safety, and the broad field looked like a vast warehouse. Chairs and bedsteads and even stoves and old pipes were piled in hopeless confusion one upon the other. In the hurry people had taken that which they had seen first, and the common things of the kitchen were saved while the rich furniture of the drawing-room was left to perish. A man congratulated himself upon saving an old tub and a dipper, while the books in the library lay untouched save by the fire, and private papers that he could easily have slipped into his pocket, burned before his eyes. A lady told her husband to be careful and take a bag which contained the massive silver plate of her family for a century, and in the moving it was found that he had saved the rag-bag instead. A man who had been a prosperous merchant lost his all, and the