Not only from the banks of the Yellow Creek, but from North and South, from factory after factory, came, as the days and weeks flew by, the same awful tale. The mischief, which determination and courage might have nipped in the bud, was allowed to grow without restraint. Superstition came to the aid of Terror to make it more terrified yet. The machines which by some obscure process of development had at last become capable of reproducing their kind were popularly supposed to be possessed by demons. Who can wonder?
Needless to say trade was at a standstill, and the violence of starving mobs was added to other terrors. The railways were deserted, neither passengers nor drivers being forthcoming. Steamships ceased to ply to and fro between our once busy ports. Those whom business or affection compelled to travel were content to jog along the weary roads in wagons, or beat up against contrary winds in ancient unseaworthy sailing ships. What might be happening in those once busy haunts of human skill, the workshops, none dared enquire.
But much was happening there, for each day the
