The next letter is from MR. GEORGE J. STEIDLER of New York City.

"At the time of the Blizzard I was 13 years old. I lived below Houston Street west of West Broadway. The latter street was then known as South Fifth Ave. My folks lived in an old fashioned tenement, still existing but modernized.. . .

"At night there was one gas jet in the hall off the street and one on every other floor. They were turned out at 10 p. m." The milkman, he writes, made rounds in the dark about 2 a. m., a bucket in one hand and a lantern in the other. From his bucket he filled his customers' cans hanging on their door knobs. "Sometimes it was milk but most of the time it was milk and ice! During the blizzard he could not come, so we used condensed milk. People in our circumstances were dependent on the coal box in front of every grocery, of which we purchased 5 or 10 cents worth in a scuttle.. . The grocers at that time also sold a liquid fuel over a bar in the rear of the store. A glass of one was equal to a scuttle of the other, in price. Coal delivery stopped with the Blizzard and the grocer's coal bin was soon depleted. There was much suffering for want of coal. The house had running water and a sink in the hall. Four families to one sink. Toilets, known as backhouses were in the yards. With water freezing, pipes bursting, tenants dumping their garbage and worse into the hallway sinks, the slops running over, people preferred to stay in during the Blizzard when they should have gone out.. . My father had a small barbershop. His entire receipts on the Blizzard day were one thin dime. I went to school, a distance of about five blocks from my home. Old Ward School No. 10 in Wooster Street had a learned man named Maguire as principal for the Boys' Grammar Department. About 15 boys out of 300 attended. He praised the boys for braving the storm and told them we were experiencing a rare phenomenon, namely: 'A DAKOTA BLIZZARD.'"