New Britain Herald Newspaper, August 8, 1914, Page 9

NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, SATURDAY, AUGUST 8, 1914 A ——— — Photos by American Press Assoclation. HOW PEOPLE IN 1~—Bathing outside city limits during hot spell. 2—Cool youngster. 3.—Making park bench an open air bed. 4.—Wet- ting down over heated hor 5—Reviving heat victims. 6.—On the sands at Coney Island. 7.—Tots cooling off at public fountain. 8—Tangoing on the beach. 9 and 10.—Sleeping in the open air. IFE in the city is undoubtedly an advantage from a social and business standpoint, but when the dreaded heat wave strikes congested districts it becomes a ver- itable torture. No matter how strong the sun in the open country, there is always' some shady spot where a re- freshing breeze can be found. Not so * In<the city, for the only shady spots are indoors, where no stray breeze can ever find its way and the hard con- crete of the streets and courtyards fadiates heat in shimmering clouds. It s no uncommon matter at all to pick one's way along some human laden street in the slums and see the heat ris- ing in waves from the scorching pave- ment. Another effect of the hot weather is that it.greatly increases lawlessness. Heat waves and crime waves seem to be coincident. In New York city, for ipstance, all of the worst public dis- turbances have occurred in July, starting with the first abolition riots in 1836 and including the great draft the Orange riots and many of the vari- ous union demonstrations up to the present time. There really seems, at first thought, no reason why the two should be coupled. The degree of ca- loric, as indicated by the innocent look- ing thermometer, seems to have noth- ing to do with the domination of man over his moral nature. To suppose that man is influenced to crime by the mere fact that the weather is 20 de- grees higher than would be really com- fortable is to suppose him a poor crea- tu? indeed, but that is the fact. o ordinary man can be expetted to see his wife and children sleeping on the stones of the sidewalks or the bare roofs of the tenement houses and pre- serve his amiablity. His irritation at their and his own physical discomfort is likely to assume a spirit of resent- ment against those who are more for- tunate. Aside from this question of crime as caused directly by the heat of summer in a great city, there is a direct loss to the community from the heat that is riots of 1863, the gang fights of 1857, | not easily figured up, but which is very great. Men cannot work in summer as they do in winter, and business is in- terrupted to a greater extent than is generally realized. Few persons ap- preciate how slight a cause may in- crease the friction of the great ma- chine we call commerce and how greatly that friction may delay its working. A sick horse, a sun struck laborer, an overworked and wilted messenger, a lazy clerk or any other one of the direct results of hot weather may interfere with an enterprise of great importance, and such things do every summer, and especially every hot day in summer, delay operations to such an extent that they are counted on as regular incidents of business. In order to combat this all of our large cities have installed special wards in their hospitals for handling cases of heat stroke and prostration. A man had fallen prostrate in the business part of town, agd the ambu- lance had been summoned. ame un- known,” said the big hearted rough looking ambulance driver. As the clang of the wagon and its rattling over the cobblestones of the alley was heard the negro porter and two of the white help- ers ran to meet it. The panting horses had hardly stopped when the doors of the ambulance swung back. The stretcher, bearing the unconscious form of a human being, was quickly pushed into the hands of the waiting men. Two seconds later it was deposited on the floor. Four stalwart men knelt by the unconscious form. One pulled off his shoes. another his coat, and so on uptil he was stripped; then the doctor took his temperature, which was re- Vil]ag Soldiers Carry Own Rétions O — . Photo by American Press Assoclation. MEXICAN REBEL LEAVING FOR FRONT. HOSE who are prone to ridi- cule the fighting ability and courage of the Mexican should see him in action before ven- turing an opinion. They are great wmoral cowards, as & rule, but will take desperate chances on the spur of the moment and undergo the greatest hardships while in camp or en route. The camp life of the Mexican soldier is probably the most unpleasant of any culties are shared by his faithful wife. The soldiers under Villa carried their families and entire households about with them, even to the food they need- ed. When a long march is to be made clvilized country, and all of these diffi- |the soldier and his wife each sling a live lamb or goat across thelr saddle bows and carry bags of cornmeal in the same manner. When they cannot afford a horse or a burro, as is nearly always the case, they ride on top of the transport trains. Each family must watch its live stock, for if it strays away it never returns. There are too many hungry men in Mexico. The insides of these trains are given over to the horses, and when a stop is made for the day the animals are taken out and staked together in the open. It is at this hour that the Mexi- can housewife comes into her own. The goats or sheep are killed and a small charcoal fire is buiit alongside or on the dirt floor of the car. Here the evening meal of tortillos and broiled meat is prepared and eaten with a rel- ish despite the frightfully insanitary condition of the surroundings. Dishonest as the Mexican peon is re- garding articles of value, there seems to be a very finely drawn code of honor governing the purloining of food. It is very seldom indeed that one soldier de- liberately steals food from another. Of course if it happens to be four footed food and strays his way it becomes another matter and he takes it with- out a qualm of conscience. The reason for all this carrying and preparing of food lies in the fact that the government supplies transportation for wives and children, but makes no commissary allowance for them. Therefore they must rustle up their own food or starve. A great deal of foraging is done by the half grown chil- dren. Some bring fruit, some vege- tables, some lucky enough to steal a chicken, while once In awhile one leads in a sheep whose owner was not look- ing. The life of these war children 1s ro- mantic. They receive a thorough training in self help and also grow adept In the art of seizing deftly all the things they need. Those war chil- dren will turn up again some day at the head of roaming brigand bands and make more trouble. The women greet the little marau- ders with a varying measure of ap- proval and set about to prepare the evening meal. When every one is fed the hunt begins for a place to sleep, free from dampness and mosquitoes, The men are left at their posts; wo- men and children trek to some roadway in the distance or to a rallroad station. Asphalt platforms are favored, and heavily guarded stations constitute a safer place. When night falls hundreds of bodies which for days and days have not known the comfort of disrobing or bathing are stretched on the ground, hands and heads wrapped up securely in serapes or rebozos. At the first rays of sun the weary, unwashed mothers wake up their weary, unwashed prog- eny and make their way to the hills or the passes where the men are on guard. Fields and orchards yleld the constituents of the morning meal. ARTHUR T. BRINTON. corded on the tally sheet. His pulse was low, so feeble as to be a very sig- nificant danger signal. An injection of whisky was hypodermically adminis- tered to stimulate the heart action; then hydrant water was thrown on from a hose. Another man placed ice bags about his head. One of the phy- sicians knelt to feel his pulse. On the other side of the room a big_tub was being prepared. Chunks of ice were floating in it to bring the temperature down. At a signal the prostrate form was lifted from the stretcher and im- Big Rogue Elephant Ban UNDA, the big rogue elephant who has been the principal attraction at the Bronx zoo, in New York, all summer, is about to enter his annual period of tractability, according to his keeper. During his recent ructions he broke one of the chains which have held him for the past two years and incidentally chipped about fifteen inches off his only remaining tusk. In order to bring him around Thuman and Richards, his keepers, lassoed the huge animal and stretched him across his cage, one foot tied securely to each side. It only took one day of this sort of treatment to make him behave per- fectly, and new chains were procured and the task of putting them on was begun at once. The substitution of the new chains for the old might easily have proved a more hazardous task than that of the day before, when the kecpers cap- tured him after the chain on his front leg had dropped off and he had been practically at liberty in his cage for three days. Dr. Hornaday was not at all certain that the “stretching” would prove to have taught Gunda submis- sion. It was possible that it might have served only to make him re- vengeful. The keepers began by easing up on the rope and chain that held his right front leg. Then Thumén, holding in his hands the hook which the elephants dread, commanded him to move over. Satisfied, apparently, that this move was being made for his own good, Gun- da sidestepped across the cage to the spot near the wall where he has been chained for the last two years, Richards then went into the cage by the side door. Thuman stood near his head, hook in hand, ready to draw the elephant's attack to himself jn case Gunda tried to turn on Richards. To make,the chain fast to the big staple sunk in the concrete floor Richards had to pass under Gunda's body. This is the most venturesome move that can be made around him, now that he has broken both his tusks. Elephants fight with their feet as in- stinctively as with their ivories. Gun- da could have slammed Richards to the floor with his trunk or with one leg and planted a foot on him. With one grind of his foot the man's life would have been crushed out. Five tons of elephant coming down on him would have finished Richards in the fraction of a second. But the events of the day before, if not his “stretching,” had taken the fight out of Gunda. “The old boy cer- tainly misses that tusk,” said Thuman. “It was ple for him to make us jump around by making a few passes at us with the ivory prong. He never batted an eye at Dick while he worked around his legs. And he hates Dick like poi- son. “Our way of handling him is to let bim think Dick is his enemy and I'm | mersed in the water. More ice bags | were placed about his head. Around him were five men. Some were dash- ing water over his head and chest, oth- ers were chafing his limbs. All watch- ed eagerly for a sign of life. Once they thought the lips moved The pulse was still weak. More whisky, with a twen- tieth of a grain of strychnine, was in- Jected. Little was said. The man's temperature was 109, lacking one- tenth. It portended fatai results unless | promptly lowered. As he lay there-in the tub, his face his friend. 1 do all the petting and he minds me, when he is willing to mind any one. If,I go in under him and he gets ugly Dick couldn't do anything with him, but if he bad turned on Dick | 1 could go after him with the hook and give him the command, and there| would be some likelihood he would obey. “The only way out of that cage when Leen pleasant |the happy couple: "BIG CITIES LIVE IN HOT WEATHER alone visible, his probable identity was dise d. The patient was a youn man, apparently less than thirty. His beard was of several days' growth, the clothing that had been taken from him as of good material, but travel stain- ed and worn he face indicated re- finement and culture. 1t would have to look at in repose but for the deathly pallor that spread over it. Not a knight of the road, that was evident. Probably some poor fellow who had known better days, but now one of the great army of unfortunates. Had he a family? Who could tell? “He will recover” said the doctor, and those who looked saw a retukn of respiration. In a few moments his eyes opened. They expressed mingled wonder, astonishment and anxiety. He d to speak, but could not You're all right, my man,” reassuring of the doctor. they didn't reassure. ’ "My bables,” gasped the man., and then he relapseds into blessed uncon~ sciousness. A half hour later he had recovered sufficiently to tell his story. He had come from Indian territory and was on his way east. Four little ones were un- der his care—his own Three years ago he had left his home in eastern Pennsylvania with his wife and two babies and gone west. For awhile he prospered. Two more bables blessed then came a fallure ot his crops, followed by depression and hard times. The wife sickened and died. Things went from bad to won and finally he sold out, paid his debts and started back to the old homestead. He had left thie babies with a motherly woman, who gave him food and was to return in an hour. He started out to look for work or charity. , He refused to go to the hospital and after about two hours’ treatment was allowed to leave. And so it goes. It is the flotsam and jetsam of the world's tide of humanity that drifts into the dispensary. It is the poor who depend on the charity of a great city. Those who have money or friends go to a private hospital, and their prostration. is seldom heard of unless the results be fatal. but the lower ten thousand find their way te the dispensary in times of iline: f Keepers big elephant and note the damage he had done to himself in breaking his tusk. He rocked back and forth and made swings with his trunk, glaring at the spectators from his malignant little eyes, making a very satisfactory picture of baffled brute strength. in the fall or early winter, the season of the year at which his disposition 1s most equable, Thuman intends, with were the but you get in back of Gunda and he charges you is to dive into the box tor | GUNDA, MAN E the waste. 1 got halfway into it two years ago when he attacked me, but he ran his tusk through my leg and pulled me out. I was knocked uncon- scious, and I don't know yet how Dick saved me. He doesn't know himself, he was so excited. Both Gunda and Dick thought I was dead, and he man- aged to drive the elephant back with the hook and dragged me through the bars.” The new swivel chains that Gunda now wears are heavier than his former chains and longer, so that he has more freedom. Thuman is sure that he is coming out of his perjod of distemper and will be more tractable from now on. He even lay down at Thuman's command and by every sign was not looking for further trouble. As a re- ward for his good behavior he was fed with young carrots and cabbages and green corn stalks, a veritable banquet to Gunda. In spite ot the hot weather hundreds of persons have visited the park, many of them coming expressly to see the Dr. Hornaday's permission, to saw off the splintered ends of his tusks to make ATING ELEPHANT. him look less the battle scarred veteran that he is. Despite his viciousness, Gunda 1s particularly fond of children and shows his liking for the little ones on almost every occasion. His keepers say that even when he is in his most violent tantrums the sight of a child bas & wonderfully soothing effect on him. They declare that a child is safe in the elephant’s keeping at any time. Gune da is the one elephant that the keep~ ergynever are sure of. All others have bedh made tractable in time, but they never can tell what Gunda is going to do next “We can do anything with Gunda in the fall or winter,” said one of his keepers, “but in the hot weather we are deathly afraid of him. Like all elephants, he is tricky, and some days when be has led us to think that he was in a particularly peaceful frame of mind he would cut up in the wildest sort of pranks, and it would be worth any one's life to go near him.* WALTON WILLIAMES 4