The first visit of cholera to Platte City was this summer. A stranger got out of the stage, and commenced screaming and cramping, at the post office. A hasty consultation was held, and Judge Norton, H.H. Hope and W.M. Paxton determined to lead him to a vacant house, standing on the lot occupied the by present jail. But the man fell on Main Street, with cramp, and screamed so as to alarm the town. We gave him the best of care, but in thirty-six hours, he died. The breath had hardly ceased before a trembling gang, who had given no help in the man’s lifetime, hurried him off in a box, by night, to an improvised grave. His name was never learned. Fear settled on the whole county. The disease was fatal among emigrants on the plains. Several strangers and some citizens died at Weston.