IT WAS the 11th of August. The rain had been
falling continually for the last three days. All of a sudden I heard a terrible
noise at a very close quarter. I ran out to see what the matter was. I saw a
cloud of dust rising from and old house that had collapsed. It was at a stone’s
throw from ours. Many people were already standing there. Some of them saw with
their own eyes, how its front wall fell first of all and how, along with that,
the roof came down with a loud crash. They said that the inmates of the house
had gone to the pictures, leaving behind two of their servants. The poor
fellows had, probably, been buried under the debris. The police and the
fire-bridge were informed at once. They began to search for them. Before long the
two unformate young men were found dead under a heap of bricks. It was a great
tragedy, and everybody felt story for that.
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