In The Smoke Room

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XIX, Issue XV, 2 October 1897, Page 462

In The Smoke Room

THIS is how they are said to do things across the Atlantic. A certain suburb of Chicago did not want its rural sanctity invaded by the tram-line, and it accordingly obtained an injunction from the courts re straining the railroad company from nsing the streets of the town. From some cause or other—whether misunderstanding or accident is not stated —this injunction lapsed at midnight on June Bth. The railroad people were on the watch ; at 12.5 a.m. they started 500 men on the track, and when the astonished residents woke they found the work half done. By breakfast time the rails were laid down, and by ten o’clock trolly wires, poles, and connections were all complete, the cars were running, and five miles of railway had been begun and finished in ten hours I It seems incredible, but the company had completed the line—and so entered upon that * possession ’ which, in America far more than here, is * nine points of the law ’ —before a new injunction could be served on them. It is announced from Chicago that John Spooner, a sailor, aged 70, has made his will, leaving his dog 1,700 dollars. The money has been deposited with a trust company, which has undertaken to execute the peculiar provisions of the will. Spooner stipulates that if the dog dies before he does, the money, on his death, will go to his sister, who is in England ; but if he dies first the money is to be used for the support of the dog. The man gives as his reason for making this will that while passing throngh Chicago he became ill, and as his dog proved his most faithful nurse, he desires that its fidelity and affection shall be rewarded. ‘ There is no doubt the day will come,’ says Professor W. E. Ayrton, when copper wires, gutta-percha coverings, and iron sheathings will be relegated to the museum of antiquities. Then when a person wants to telegraph to a friend, he knows not where, he will call in an electromagnetic voice, which will be heard loud by him who has the electromagnetic ear, but will be silent to everyone else. He will call “ Where are you ?” and the reply will come loud to the man with the electromagnetic ear. “lam at the bottom of a coal mine, or crossing the Andes, or in the middle of the Pacific.” Or, perhaps, no voice will come at all, and he may then expect the friend is dead. Think what that will mean. Think of the calling which goes on from room to room, then think of that calling when it extends from pole to pole—a calling quite audible to him who wants to hear, absolutely silent to him who does not.’ Bishop Williams, of Marquetto, U.S.A., tells a curious story of the experience of a brother cleric while engaged in mission work among the Esquimaux north of Hudson Bsy. It was necessary to build a church, and, as there was no wood, the missionary had to employ whales’ ribs for rafters, and covered them with tanned walrus hide. The edifice was constructed to hold eighty persons. All went well till the advent of the intensely cold winter, when hosts of famished dogs promptly attacked the church —and ate it I A boy who had become an excessive smoker of cigarettes at the age of twelve, but has now been broken off the habit, thus describes his experiences :—‘ I was four years old when I first began to smoke cigarettes. After I had smoked a few years I got to inhaling the smoke. When I tried to stop, it was the hardest thing I ever did. I had to try a great many times before I could do it, but I knew I had to, because it made me sick. As soon as I really stopped, I felt very bad—worse than I ever felt in my life. It made me dizzy and nervous. I didn’t get hungry and could hardly sleep. I didn’t learn my lessons well, and I was thinking all the while about smoking. After two weeks I began to feel better. Now I have been without cigarettes three months, and feel all right.’ The police officers of Venice, according to the stories told by the sailors, could give a few points to the force of the city. Something over sixty men of the United States war ship, ‘ Minneapolis ’ received liberty on one occasion there from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. As soon as they got ashore they were arrested and locked up so as to compel them to overstay their leave In the morning rewards were offered for the return of the men to the ship, the amount in each case being sto. The police marched the involuntary delinquents to the vessel and collected the money, which, of course, was deducted from the sailors’ pay. The same thing happened at Naples and Taranto, and the tars say the practice is common in all Italian ports.