This is the third edition of a nonsensical rigmarole that has no merit in the world, except absolute truth, which is something in its favor, and the happy result that its author, from the proceeds of the sale, was enabled to build "Sunset" or "Moonshine Cottage"--call it as you will--for either name is logical and appropriate enough. From the foregoing pages it will be seen that Nature has done much for Harper's Ferry and that industry and art improved its natural advantages, until the frenzy of war was permitted to mar the beneficent designs of Providence, and the labors of three-quarters of a century. It will soon appear as if Heaven, in its anger at the folly and ingratitude of man, had marked the place for total destruction when, in addition to the ravages of war, the power of the elements was invoked to overwhelm the town, as will be seen in the following account of the great flood of 1870: In closing the eventful history of Harper's Ferry we must not omit the greatest, perhaps, of the series of calamities which, commencing on the day of John Brown's raid, culminated in the destruction of the most flourishing part of the town by a great flood in the Shenandoah on Friday, September 30th, and Saturday, October 1st, 1870. On the Tuesday before the inundation it rained heavily at intervals, as also, on Wednesday, Thursday and the morning of Friday. No extraordinary rise of either river was anticipated, however, as from the long drought of the previous months, the streams were greatly reduced and the most that was anticipated was a moderate increase in the volume of water, such as is usual in equinoctial storms. On Friday morning, however, many persons noticed the rapidity with which the Shenandoah rose, and something in the fierce dash of its tawny waves against the rocks near its mouth attracted unusual attention. All that day this river rose very fast, and about 4 o'clock, p.m., its banks were crowded with people watching the furious rush of the water and the drift which, in great quantities and of a miscellaneous character, was tossed on its angry waves. About this time a vague rumor was circulated that a telegraphic dispatch had arrived from Front Royal, about fifty miles farther up the Shenandoah--on the south fork--stating that a water spout had burst on the Blue Ridge at a point still farther up the valley, that a deluge was pouring down and that the people of Harper's Ferry, especially, were in imminent peril. While people were yet speculating on the probability of the truth of this report and, before the lapse of half an hour from the time of the arrival of the dispatch, several citizens came rushing from the Island of Virginius, who stated that they had had just time enough to escape to the main land before bridges connecting it with the island were swept away, and that many people were left behind whose houses were already partially submerged. Even then, few people in the lower part of