THE SAME BELL.
“Up to Thursday night there had been no sleep in the city. True, exhausted nature had thrown men and women and children on their beds and they had closed their eyes and the physical strain had been to some degree relieved, but the mental strain was still at the breaking point. One man said that on Thursday morning he was awakened by the convent bell summoning the living to mass. It was the same bell that had rung or tinkled in the tone since the day of the storm.
“He bounded from his bed a new man. He was hopeless the day before. He had seriously thought of abandoning his house, which he believed beyond repair, but when he looked at it on Thursday morning it did not look so badly. He resolved to fight it out. He went and found others like himself—resolved to fight it out.
“Thursday night’s sleep made the people a new people. The difference in their look and deportment from that of the day before was observed by everyone. The streets were filled with them, when on the day before the streets were silent of all except those who had the horrible work of taking care of the dead on their shoulders. Now women could be seen talking to women. They met on the corners in the residence portion of the town and told their adventures. The men began to discuss the future. By 10 o’clock the town was up and buoyant. The effect of that one night’s sleep was marvelous. There was no longer any talk of abandoning the town. Galveston should be greater than Galveston had ever been. That was on the lips of everyone.