At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 125: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

114 AT A GIRL’S MERCY. the terrible day. The outbreak came suddenly, as they were aware it must come. There were mutter- ings of the storm, threatening looks, sullen silence preceding the tumult that came like an avalanche. ~The mobs were dense. When they made their rush, the streets seemed black with their swarm. ing. They used the only weapons with which they were familiar—clubs and stones, and bricks —anything they could lay their hands upon, hurling them at random upon the men who attempted to overpower them. The militia were out promptly, and worked with the order they must use among a set of such wild beasts. They were armed with more effective weapons than the rabble could com- mand. But they did not use the rifles until all else was useless. Broadway was blockaded with timber and anything the hands could lay hold upon. And behind this blockade the shower of stones, and bricks, and clubs were hurled with a terrible effect, that must have been worse had there been any leader among them. Every one joined in the defense. Business men left their stores, every one joined the ranks that could lift a hand. These were mustered together and given a commander, and were prepared to do their best should life be the penalty. The city was com- paratively defenseless, for the greater force of the - militia had been called away for defense elsewhere, and the human brutes knew of this. But they reckoned without their host when they were sure of an easy victory over those that were left. Not aman among them but fought for life and death, and heart and home, with the honor of their country at stake, and the honor of their city in jeopardy. And shin the day was spent and darkness upon the city, a sul- comicbooks.com