A Safe Business

1895

A big, burly looking fellow, a picture of health and strength, walked into the office of a prominent accident insurance company the other day and applied for a policy.

"Certainly," said the secretary. "Are you engaged in any hazardous business?"

"Not in the least," replied the applicant.

"Does your business make it necessary for you to handle loaded firearms or weapons of any kind?"

"No, sir."

"Would your business ever require you to be where there were excited crowds — for instance, at a riot or a fire?"

"Very seldom."

"Is your business such as to render you liable to street cars or runaway horses?" "No, sir."

"Does your business throw you in contact with the criminal classes?"

"Very rarely indeed, sir."

"I guess you are eligible. What is your business?"

"I am a policeman." — New York Dispatch.

Daring Woman Hunts Jungle Beasts With Both Movie Camera and Rifle

(Click graphic for a much bigger view.)

1920

BY ELLEN MARIE BAYARD.

"I'll tell you a secret," said Lady MacKenzie to me in her charming, well modulated tones, with just the slightest trace of an English accent, as I was admitted to her superbly furnished apartments in a Broadway hotel at New York City, as the special representative of The Saturday Blade to interview her. "But you'll promise that you'll keep this a secret?"

I promised that I wouldn't tell a soul — excepting the readers of The Saturday Blade.

"It's this," Lady MacKenzie replied. "Just a few days ago I was visiting one of my friends in New York, telling her of a thrilling experience with a tiger in Africa. Just at the most dramatic point of the story, a mouse ran across the room in my direction, and — "

"And you, of course, ignored — " I hastened to interrupt, feeling certain that I was showing the keenness of my powers of anticipation.

Lady MacKenzie smiled at me, that charming, friendly smile of hers.

"Far from it! I picked up my skirts and mounted a chair, just as my hostess did, or any other woman would have done."

Is Wholly Feminine.

This incident, more than any other mentioned during the short interview, seemed to be most indicative of Lady MacKenzie's character. Here was a woman who could shoot a charging elephant in the fetid jungles of Africa without a tremor of an eyelash, but who mounted a chair to escape a mouse in a luxurious New York apartment. This Englishwoman had penetrated further into the dank wilds of Africa than any other living white woman, and as a nimrod had to her credit a long list of such harmless little pets as bull elephants, tigers, leopards and lions — to say nothing of snakes as large thru as the trunk of a tree. Yet she balked at a mouse!

The answer is easy. Lady MacKenzie is wholly feminine. Tho inured to the hardships of the jungles, she dresses in dainty laces while in civilization. In the undramatic environment of a New York hotel, it is hard to believe that this charming, attractive Englishwoman has earned the admiration of the world by her contempt for danger and hardship in tropical jungles.

But it is so. Lady MacKenzie has made two long trips into darkest Africa. She is off now on her third explorative tour and hopes this time to penetrate further and learn more than on either of her previous trips.

War Interrupted Last Tour.

Her exploration of the Tana River, one of the most treacherous streams in the world, winding thru 2,000 miles of dense thicket and papyrus swamp, was interrupted by the war. Her camp at the junction of the Tana and Theka Rivers was taken over by the British as a military base.

Lady MacKenzie's tours are not for purposes of sport. She photographs specimens of wild animals for the Smithsonian Institution and for the American Museum of Natural History.

And with all its hardship and danger, she finds big game hunting an attractive life. She loves adventure and "real life," the life in the open and the thrill of the hunt. And why not? Have men in these days a monopoly on those things? Not that Lady MacKenzie knows of! She likes the ponderous silence of the inky jungles, the sense of stealthy peril ever slinking near, the sharpened instinct of self-survival. She just wonders how people can settle down to a dull, quiet life while Africa is still on the map.

Lion Didn't Like Camera.

"Tell me how you photograph 'em," I pleaded.

"I took a second too long to take a lion's picture once, and he charged me," Lady MacKenzie answered.

Sounds easy, doesn't it? I know that it did to me, as I sat in a soft divan in the New York hotel. But how it really happened in Africa, as I found by questioning the modest English woman further, was this way:

Instead of setting her camera to take a picture by pulling a wire from a convenient retreat in the rear, Lady MacKenzie got right into the thick of things, with her moving picture camera out in front of her.

The lion, of course, didn't like it. Lions often don't.

"G-r-r-r-r! G-r-r!"

Lady MacKenzie kept on turning the crank of the machine as the lion stepped in front of the lens. The animal's tail began switching furiously. Lady MacKenzie coolly adjusted her camera to get a better view. Then the inevitable happened.

Barely Saves Own Life.

The lion leaped. His tawny body describing an angry arc in the air, he met the target directly. Lady MacKenzie's, leap for safety was too late, and the shaggy shoulder of the huge brute dashed her to the ground.

But that was his majesty's last second on earth — for Lady MacKenzie always had her rifle ready and knew how to use it. There was a muffled report and the king of beasts fell with a bullet thru his brain.

"That was a narrow escape," sighs Lady MacKenzie, in recollection of the moment, "but not nearly so exciting as to be caught in a stampede of wild beasts in the heart of the jungle."

It was this way, as I learned in the next few moments. The modern Diana came upon an immense herd of buffalo one day, and was intent upon obtaining an "action picture." To get the desired action she shot the leader of the herd with her rifle. The rest of the animals stampeded.

On they came, a mighty, bellowing avalanche of hoofs and horns. There were hundreds of them, bolting directly for Lady MacKenzie and her party.

Quick as a flash milady threw herself flat on the ground and waited. At any moment she expected to be trampled to death beneath the beating hoofs. With the thought came a fleeting picture of being buried by black savages in the wilds far from home and civilization.

Then the unexpected happened — an intervention of Providence, Lady MacKenzie calls it. For some unexplainable reason the herd parted just in front of where she lay and passed around her on the right and left, leaving her unharmed, but killing several of the native guides.

"But outside of the danger, is there much else of romance in the jungle life?" I asked.

"Too much — sometimes, I'm afraid," replied Lady MacKenzie, with a whimsical smile.

African Chieftain Proposes.

Then she told how an African chieftain became enamored of her when he saw her powder her face one morning. He was curious, and when Lady MacKenzie gave him some powder he applied it to his face, and then got her mirror to see if he had achieved the desired result.

By this time he had lost his heart to milady, and immediately proposed, tho he had several score of native wives. He offered to give members of the party ten sleek cows for the Englishwoman's hand in marriage. It required all kinds of tact and diplomacy to turn down the offer without incurring the anger of the chieftain and his powerful tribe of savages.

The Masals are the most interesting of African tribes, says the huntress, but are fast dying out. They are deliberately practicing race suicide to wipe out their own race rather than endure the encroachments of the hated white man. They are a race of polygamists and have no religion.

Africa Is Little Known.

"The world probably knows less about Africa than any other country in the world," says Lady MacKenzie. "And there is so much to know. I predict that Americans will before very long get into Africa in larger numbers. Then we may expect to find out all about it. For the American has a faculty for developing the commercial resources of a new country — of any country. And there are such wonderful resources in Africa — only the surface has been scratched."

But, altho Lady MacKenzie was too modest to say so, I might add that she had contributed a mighty share toward enlightening the world about Africa. She has brought home valuable records containing the native speech of unknown African tribes and thousands of feet of moving pictures on which are forever recorded the habits of the wild jungle animals and the life and customs of the jungle peoples. She has returned with tons of educational trophies. And she's not thru yet!

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 14.

Comment: This article and Lady MacKenzie are offensive at several levels. To me, the worst has to be when she wanted an "action picture" of the buffalo, so she shot the leader of the herd and made the rest stampede. Then she was in great danger, but, thanks to Providence, she was left unharmed, but the incident killed several of the native guides! That's terrible all the way through. And check out the photo essay, as they hunted animals with "a camera."

Scottish Laddie Was Brave

1901

At Wellshot quarry, in Cambusiang, Scotland, during last winter, a frightful accident took place. One pleasant afternoon a group of lads were sliding on the ice when suddenly it gave way, and five lads were left struggling in the water.

Their cries drew the attention of a boy named Thomas Martin. He pluckily threw off his boots and succeeded in dragging lad after lad to the bank. One youth still remained in the middle of the pool, a lad named William Chalmers. Martin managed to secure several mufflers and cravats, which, tied together, reached the drowning youth, but he was unable to make use of them.

Martin, now much exhausted, again entered the water and with much difficulty brought the last boy ashore. Both were much exhausted, and Martin had to be carried home. The brave lad is only 11 years of age and not too robust in health. The quarry at the spot mentioned is said to be fully 20 feet deep.

Six Frightened Lions

1901

An incident at the Porte St. Martin theater in Paris has become part of the annals of the show business. The chief feature of the exhibition was a "turn" consisting of the casting of a young woman securely bound into a cage of lions heralded as being the fiercest and most bloodthirsty of man eaters.

The woman who had the part of the victim was taken ill, and a substitute was found in the wife of one of the trainers, herself a trainer of some experience, but without any acquaintance with these particular six lions, as she was somewhat nervous she carried a small club ready for use should occasion arise.

Amid the breathless silence of the spectators the ringmaster explained the ferocious nature of the lions and the terrible risk of the woman and she was thrust in at the cage door. In the excitement of the occasion the door was not securely shut after her. No sooner was she fairly inside than the six monarchs of the jungle, seeing that a strange person had been forced upon them, raised a chorus of shuddering terror, bolted for the cage door, clawed it open and with dragging tails and cringing flanks fled out through a rear entrance and found refuge in a cellar, whence they were dislodged only after great difficulty.

It was a week before the "ferocious man eaters" were sufficiently recovered from their terrors to reappear in public. — McClure's Magazine.

A Nervy Museum Manager

1901

Sarah Bernhardt said that one night during a visit to America when she was playing "Jeanne d'Arc," she hurt her knee with a rusty nail. "The wound gave me considerable pain and trouble," she said, "and it was thought that a slight operation might possibly be required. This fact appeared in the daily papers, and a day or two afterward I received a telegram from the manager of a museum in Chicago saying that if it was necessary to amputate my leg might he please have it. He added he would drape it if desired."

Bogged

1901

While traveling in Cornwall in 1891 Rev. S. Baring-Gould came near being overwhelmed in a bog. He and his companions got lost and at dusk found themselves in a bog called Redmire. Six bullocks had already been lost there that year. Mr. Baring-Gould's adventure is related in his "Book of the West."

"All at once I sank above my waist and was being sucked farther down. I cried to my companion, but in the darkness he could not see me, and had he seen me he could have done nothing for me. The water finally reached my armpits.

"Happily I had a stout bamboo some six feet long, and I placed this athwart the surface and held it with my arms as far expanded as possible. By jerks I succeeded in gradually lifting myself and throwing my body forward till finally I was able to cast myself at full length on the surface. The suction had been so great as to tear my leather gaiters off my legs.

"I lay at full length gasping for nearly a quarter of an hour before I had breath and strength to advance, and then wormed myself along on my breast till I reached dry land. My companion, it turned out, had had a similar experience."

Fire From the Sky

1920

Benjamin Franklin's kite-flying experiment has been spoken of as foolhardy. Undoubtedly it was risky. But he did not attempt it out of doors, as always represented in pictures. He stayed inside a room, through a window of which the kite string was passed. and to the end of the string he attached a length of narrow silk ribbon. Silk is a non-conductor. The ribbon was dry. Chance of a fatal accident thus was reduced to a minimum.

The Weather Bureau does much flying of kites for the purpose of studying atmospheric conditions far aloft. Box kites are used, and the "string" is piano wire unwound from a fixed reel. Every now and then lightning hits the wire, and the latter disappears in what looks like a streak of rusty smoke.

The kite flyers would run great risks were it not that they take adequate precautions, says the Kansas City Star. Instruments used in connection with the apparatus frequently indicate a high voltage, and a small spark gap would show an almost constant flow of current from kite and wire through the reel to the ground.

Schooner Is Saved By 13-Year-Old Boy

1920

Stays at Helm and Guides Leaking Ship to Port

SAN FRANCISCO, Cal., Jan. 1. — A twenty-four hours' battle with death ended here with the arrival of the little schooner S. N. Castle, a 13-year-old boy at the helm, bringing to safety his father, the captain, his sick mother and a crew of three men.

The Castle, a three-masted schooner, was ninety-four days from Apia with a cargo of copra. Three days from the Samoan port the Castle started leaking and shipping seas at the rate of twelve feet a day. The donkey engine was started to run the pumps and the cargo of copra fed as fuel.

Harry Anderson, 13, manned the ship, while his father worked with the men at the pumps.

An Engineer's Experience

1902

"The superstition about owls is a wonderful thing," said an old railroad engineer, "and if I had not been inclined to be superstitious about the birds the engine I was riding one night would have been knocked into smithereens and the passengers in the coaches might have fared very badly. I am not always superstitious, but I am particularly so about owls. But I like the creatures, for one certainly saved my life.

"The incident occurred on a very dark night. The train was running at full speed. We were running on a straight line, and there was nothing for the fireman and myself to do but to look directly ahead and let her run. I had been looking intently for an hour, when something flew into the cab. It struck the coal pile and fell back dead. It was a great gray owl. Within less time than it takes to tell it I began to think that the owl was a bad omen, and I stopped the train immediately. I cannot say what made me feel so, but I was sure that death was ahead. I descended and walked to a switch that was a short distance ahead of us. It was open and a long train of empty freight cars was on it.

"I had the owl stuffed, and since that time he has had a place in the cab of my engine. I owe my life to the superstition about owls, and if another one strikes my engine I will close the throttle at once." — New Orleans Times-Democrat.

Fear of Lightning Storms

1900

Nervous Persons Often Victims of Needless Suffering

The keen suffering which some undergo just in advance of or during a thunderstorm is of a dual nature. The sense of impending danger alarms and terrifies, but there is also a depression of spirits which is physical and real brought about by some as yet unknown relation between the nervous system and conditions of air pressure, humidity and purity. The suffering due to depression and partial exhaustion requires from those who are strong sympathy rather than ridicule.

The suffering due to alarm and fright, however, is unnecessary. It is largely the work of the imagination. To a nervous nature there is something appalling in the wicked, spiteful gleam of the lightning and the crash and tumult of thunder. But such a one should remember that the flash is almost always far distant and that thunder can do no more damage than the low notes of a church organ.

The question is often asked, "Do trees protect?" The answer is that the degrees of protection will vary with the character of the tree and its distance from a water course. An oak is more liable to lightning stroke than a beech. The character of the wood, the area of leafage, the extent and depth of root, will determine the liability to stroke.

Another question which is often asked is whether there is danger aboard a large steamship during a thunderstorm. On the contrary, there are few safer places. Sufficient metal with proper superficial area is interposed in the path of the lightning and its electrical energy converted into harmless heat and rapidly dissipated.

Accidents occur chiefly because the victims generally place themselves in the line of greatest strain and thus form part of the path of discharge. for this reason it is not wise to stand under trees, near flagpoles or masts, in doorways, on porches, close to fireplaces or near barns. Those who are not exposed in any of these ways may feel reasonably safe. It should be remembered in the event of accident that lightning does not always kill, but more often results in suspended animation than in somatic death. Therefore, in case of accident, try to restore animation, keep the body warm and send for a physician without delay. — Century.

Hunter Treed by Wolves

1905

Hungry Pack Turn Tables on Minnesota Sportsman

Henry Temfehr, a business man of Chisholm, Minn., came to the court house to-day to claim $20 as bounty for a wolf pelt in his possession. He had a harrowing experience getting his pelt, according to his story, which is vouched for by Judge Brady of Hibbing.

Mr. Temfehr was hunting north of Chisholm a few days ago, and while returning to town toward evening a pack of wolves assembled and threatened to attack him. He sought safety in a tree, and he thought it would be easy work to dispatch the pack, one at a time, from his safe perch in the tree, but after firing one shot, at which he came near falling to the ground, he changed his mind.

The wolves scattered about, realizing their danger, and watched from a respectful distance. All night the wolves kept their coveted prey in the tree, and Mr. Temfehr, although warmly clothed, came near freezing to death. During the first part of the night he fired a few shots at the beasts, and when, numb with the cold, he climbed down in the morning, he found one dead wolf.

It is supposed the other wolves hesitated to eat their dead companion for fear of meeting a like fate. — Duluth Correspondence St. Paul Pioneer Press.

In Safety and Danger

1905

The Scientific American recently called attention to the odd fact that the man who rides a few score feet in a New York City elevator runs a greater risk of injury than the man who travels from New York to Chicago and back on the fastest trains. No fewer than thirty persons were killed, and many more hurt, in New York elevator accidents in the first nine months of this year. No such proportion of those who traveled on the fastest passenger trains between the two cities were even hurt.

Yet the average man buys an accident insurance ticket whenever he starts on a railway journey of any length, and never thinks of such precautions before entering the car that lifts him to his office. Whenever a notable railway accident occurs he talks for days about the great loss of life. But he never thinks of the proportionately greater loss of life every day from accidents that befall men at home in their own houses.

The returned missionary who publicly complained the other day that, after living entirely unhurt for four years among the wildest savages of Africa, he had no sooner returned to civilization than he met with a railway accident that kept him in a hospital for six months curiously illustrated the habit of the human mind to dwell upon remote dangers and ignore those near.

Yet the fact is indisputable — the accident insurance companies have proved it to their financial loss and gain — that one of the most dangerous places a man can be is in his own home, whereas one of the safest is in a first-class railway train at full speed, while the very safest place on earth is aboard a first-class steamship in the middle of the Atlantic. — Chicago Inter Ocean.

Ship Rigger Braves Death

1905

His Vocation Is One of the Most Perilous There Is

Men who delve deep into the bowels of the earth and those who rear buildings to great heights in the skies represent the extreme in perilous endeavor. The men who work downward, according to statistics, face far greater danger than those who toil slowly skyward. Yet here is an altitudinous calling fraught with peril every minute, says the Detroit Free Press. It is the ship rigger's job, and, compared with steeple climbing, it is much the more onerous.

The men engaged in it are as well trained as circus athletes, though in the rigging of a ship the performers are carefully safeguarded. The ship rigger, however, does not know at what minute a rotten bit of timber or a worn rope may give way and precipitate him to death. With a wider use of steam vessels the decline of sailing ships is a natural result, so that now the rigger does not find as much work to do as in the palmy days of the fast clipper when American commerce whitened every sea.


Test Weldless Chain

There have been sent to the navy yard, Boston, for testing, several samples of a new kind of chain, in which the links are made of thin steel and molded without welding. It is believed that this weldless chain is stronger than the other chains now in use in the navy, and if the tests prove this it will probably be generally adopted for use by the bureau of equipment.

Birds Warn a Vessel

1900

Captain Henriksen, of the Norwegian steamer Panan, on reaching Philadelphia after a recent voyage, told a reporter of a Philadelphia exchange the following remarkable story:

"We loaded coal at Cape Breton, one of the wildest and most inhospitable spots in North America, and on January 24th weighed anchor and steamed slowly out to sea in the face of weather conditions which, to say the least, were alarming. That night the gale increased in fury until it blew at the rate of sixty miles an hour.

"Its direction changed also, to make matters worse, and blew on shore. This part of the Atlantic coast has been but imperfectly surveyed, and almost as soon as night closed in we were in doubt as to our exact location. The lead was cast for several hours and varying depths were recorded. Toward eight bells we were in seventy fathoms, with ample room under the keel, and as we seemed to be off the shoals, the speed was increased.

"While moving along at an eight-knot speed on a course west by southwest, and with the assurance that the land was no more to oppose us, the man on the lookout forward suddenly heard a confusion of sounds resembling the humming of millions of bees. The headway of the vessel was at once checked, and then the noise resolved itself into the voices of birds.

"It was an immense volume of chirping, and rustling of wings, which could be heard distinctly above the roar of the storm. In the succeeding moments of fear and doubt, the Panan was allowed to drift, while we sought anxiously to pierce the intense gloom of the night. Then the motion became easier and the anchor was dropped.

"When morning broke, an astonishing spectacle greeted us. Scarcely a quarter of a mile away was an immense towering rock, which, had the vessel struck it, would have dashed her to fragments in an instant. Stranger than all, the vast granite pile was inhabited by myriads of white birds, which reposed on its barren pinnacles and fluttered about the lonely apex. It was their warning cries, resounding through the night, which had saved the steamer."

One of the sailors would have tried a shot at them, but the captain would not permit it, simply as a matter of sentiment. He recognized the birds as of a species which frequent the rocky Newfoundland headlands in great numbers during the winter season. — Youth's Companion.

A Diver's Escape

1899

The diver's greatest danger, says a writer in Chambers's Journal, is the possible entangling and choking of the air-pipe on which he depends for a supply of oxygen. The writer gives an experience of his own, which he styles the "closest shave" he ever had. The gates of a lock had been repaired, and he had gone down to see that all was finished satisfactorily. With twenty feet of dirty dock water above him, he felt the great gates, each many tons in weight, which were to be shut while he was down, in order that he might see whether all worked well. He says:

When ready I sent up the signal, and in a few moments felt the gate upon which my hand rested begin slowly to move. It was not long before I realized that I had made a serious mistake.

As soon as the huge masses were in motion I was gently lifted off my feet by the swirl of water in the narrow lock, and irresistibly sucked toward the meeting point of the gates. I made vigorous efforts, by clutching at and pressing against the gate surface, to save myself from being carried along, for once between the gates I must be crushed to death. On I went, however, into the rapidly narrowing gap, but fortunately I went through it, although the gates were so nearly closed that, as I passed through, I felt a leg knock against the end of each gate.

Once on the other side I was pulled up by the air-pipe tightening against the end of one of the gates, and was just congratulating myself on my escape when I suddenly realized that the pipe was still between the closing masses. A death hardly less horrible, and certainly more drawn out, than the one I had just escaped now threatened me, for with the pipe crushed flat I should be a prisoner until smothered for lack of air.

I had no knife or I could have cut the pipe, slipped off my weights, and trusted to the chance of a shoot upward.

At the very last moment, when the gates were almost closed, an inspiration came to me. I had a hammer slung to my waist by a lanyard tied to the handle. It was the work of an instant to thrust this between the meeting gate-ends.

Almost immediately I felt the jar upon it as it took the strain, and I found that there was no diminution of the rush of air into the helmet. My frail connection with the world above was uninjured.

Before I could make up my mind what to do next I felt the hammer loosen in its position, and the gates begin to open again. As they opened I was again carried through by the current, and placed on the other side — the right one for me. I hurriedly gave the signal to be hauled up, and was thankful enough to be at the surface. — Youth's Companion.

A Dangerous Nap In Desert Caravan

1899

That travellers in the desert would be wise not to take a nap when ahead of their caravans is proved — though it hardly needed proving — by the experience of Robert L. Jefferson, F. R. G. S., who relates his adventure in the Wide World Magazine.

I had got ahead, not only of the caravan, but of Bekel [his guide], and wearied with my exertions, lay down on the sand. I think I must have fallen asleep. I certainly remember picking from my face what looked like an enormous spider.

I thought nothing of it until I began to feel a pain underneath my left eye, similar to that left by a mosquito sting. In ten minutes my cheek had swollen enormously, and it was clear that I had been stung by some venomous reptile or insect. By the time Bekel came up the swelling had increased so much that I could not see out of the left eye.

As soon as Bekel saw my face, he seemed stricken with terror. He leaped from his horse, knocked rather than pushed me down, and with the fingers of both hands commenced pressing the protuberance under my eye.

The pain was terrible, and I yelled in my agony, until I think I must have fainted, although I well remember one of the Kirghiz coming with a long knife, when at once the idea entered my brain that they meant to "do for" me. The knife, however, was used only to extract the sting of the tarantula.

When I reached Petro-Alexandrovsk and related the incident to the doctor of the lazaret there, I learned that I owed my life to the promptitude of Bekel and the Kirghiz. Another hour and help would have been too late.

The Body Perfectly Obeys Your Rapid Brain

1922

YOUR POWERS

Lulu M. Cargill, clerk in the New York post office, takes from Nina E. Holmes of Detroit the title of "champion letter sorter of the world."

Miss Holmes attracted attention by sorting 20,610 letters in eight hours, or nearly 43 a minute. Miss Cargill sorts 30,215 letters in eight hours, which is better than one a second. And she sorted the first 23,500 letters without pause. Then she stopped for a cup of tea. Sorting a letter means picking it up, reading the address, recalling the postal route to reach the address, then tossing the letter into the proper bag.

Miss Cargill is 26 years old. She has been a postal clerk only three years.

Miss Cargill, you reflect, must have wonderful co-ordination of body and mind. A brain that works with lightning swiftness has automatically perfect teamwork with a body that perfectly obeys her rapid brain.

The body is a collection of machines, each trying to work cooperatively for the good of all. It is a more perfect system of government than man has been able to devise.

Miss Cargill, judging from her work, has what scientists would call "an extraordinary well-balanced system of endocrine glands."

In the so-called "efficient" person, the body glands speed up when needed and slow down when the energy of the body is required by the other glands.

In a boy who is growing too rapidly, as a result of abnormal activity by the pituitary gland in the brain, the other glands slow down and surrender part of their share of the body's energy. With most of his energy devoted to growing, the lad is apt to be otherwise languid.

Or, for example, you suddenly are in danger, which requires a quick use of reserve energy. The word is telegraphed through the blood. The message is sent out by the adrenal glands, which stand guard as a mobilizer of reserve energy. Other glands slow down, as if saying, "If the adrenals fail in this emergency, we all perish."

The heart responds to the adrenals and rushes blood to the arms or other parts of the body that have to meet the danger. This rush of blood is why "the face goes white" in a time of peril.

The crisis met and conquered, the blood rushes back to normal distribution through the body. The other glands "come to life." The sudden change makes the person, calm in or, half-collapse "after it's all over."

—The Bridgeport Telegram, Bridgeport, Connecticut, Sept. 26, 1922, p. 3.

An Enchanted Cavern – The Beauties of the Grotto of Capri

1887

An Enchanted Cavern

Beauties of the Grotto of Capri — An American Bicyclist's Adventure

Tradition has it that this "Grotta Azzura" was known in the earliest Roman times and then lost again in the Middle Ages, although the knowledge of its existence was preserved at Capri, and that in the last century it was rediscovered through chance — a shipwrecked sailor was dashed through the narrow opening in the cliff; recovered consciousness to find himself in heaven, as he thought — in reality upon a little ledge in the grotto — and escaped by swimming.

Can I not enter swimming when it would be impossible for a boat? The guide says, "No," but will take me out there, and it is worth the attempt; so watch and valuables are left at the hotel and we are off. On the way we meet a party returning, and upon reaching to the cave we find that the entrance, about three feet high and four broad, is filled by every wave and the spray sent dashing up the rocky sea wall I must enter as the wave recedes.

Undressing and leaping into the sea, I was tossed about a little by the waves, my mouth filled with salt water and I almost decided to give it up; but, after holding to the boat for a few moments and hearing the guide expatiate upon the "Grotta Bellissima," decided that I could risk a bit of a knock for the purpose of seeing one of nature's most beautiful creations. The boat was pushed as near as was safe and I made a plunge for the entrance, but just a little too late; I saw that the coming wave would catch me, and fearing a blow on the head — where even the felt hat I wore for that contingency would not have saved me — I dived on the instant, and the wave, coming roaring in, pushed me by its weight into the depths, instead of against the rocks. I think I must have gone down fifteen feet and been under the surface nearly a minute, for I swallowed an immense quantity of the salty fluid before I came up dazed, after a hard struggle, to find myself in smooth water, surrounded by a wonderful, supernatural, blue light, with countless stars gleaming above me. The water is very clear and seems to be fathomless, while my limbs are bright, polished, sparkling silver. Ideas of distance are lost; I can see for miles in every direction, up and down as well, and it is a surprise to me when, after swimming for ten minutes, I find myself at the other end of the grotto.

There was no resting place except a crevice in the rock for the fingers of one hand, and I hung there swinging back and forth and feasting on this wonderful sight — a feast half mingled with - fear as to my safe exit. The entrance appeared hopelessly far away, entirely closed every few seconds by the inrushing water, and then, upon its recession, admitting a ray from the outside world. The impression and experience is, under such circumstances, altogether indescribable and unearthly. After perhaps fifteen minutes I launched out once more, and swam, in fear and trembling, for the entrance; before reaching it two or three big waves came rushing in, tossing the salt spray into my eyes, and accompanied by a cold wind. I approached as near the entrance as I could, waited until a great wave dashed itself with full force into my face, struck out quickly, and, behold, I came out without the slightest trouble and seized the boat before the next wave came! — George P. Fiske, M. D.. in Outing.

Woman Scales Stack 225 Feet High on Dare

1909

Makes Trip in Painter's Swing to Chimney Top at Rockford, Ill., While Friends Watch.

Rockford, Ill., Oct. 9 — Rather than take the "dare" of her friends, Mrs. L. D. Morris yesterday made a trip alone in a painter's swing to the top of a chimney 225 feet high. She went up on the outside of the chimney, perched on a narrow board secured between two ropes, while scores looked on in anxiety.

At the top Mrs. Morris waved her handkerchief to the group below, and after she had spent a few minutes enjoying the view, was let down, none the worse for her experience.

The stack is a new one, almost completed, and the tallest in Rockford.

"A Rockford woman went to the top of the water works chimney on an inside elevator," said Mrs. Morris. "I said I had nerve to go up on the outside of a higher one in a painter's swing, although they wouldn't believe me, but I did it. The view repaid me."

—The Cedar Rapids Evening Gazette, Cedar Rapids, IA, Oct. 9, 1909, p. 9.

Mushing With Dogs in Alaska, Carrying Great LoadsMushing With Dogs in Alaska, Carrying Great Loads

1914

DOGS IN ALASKA.

Carry Great Loads Over Snow That Would Not Hold a Man.

Dogs are surely the real thing for "mushing" in the cold country. To my mind they beat reindeer a mile. Most of them weigh less than 100 pounds, and they distribute their weight over their four feet. So that they can trot over a weak snow crust where a man would sink out of sight by breaking through the crust into the soft snow below. On a good, level, smooth trail ten dogs can trot along with a ton of freight behind them, and 500 or 600 pounds is a fair load on poor trails.

A peculiar thing is that a twelve foot sled, twenty-two to twenty-four inches wide, with runners two and one-quarter inches wide, bearing a load of 600 to 800 pounds, will not sink through a snow crust that will not bear a man. This occurs because two runners two and one-quarter inches wide and twelve feet long give a large area of bearing on the crust. This, coupled with the motion that keeps the sled passing over all the time, accounts for the remarkable fact I am speaking of.

One of the greatest dangers in "mushing" is encountering water under the snow on the river ice in very cold weather or breaking through into hollow places where the stream has sunk away from under the ice. This is the most dangerous of all and often when it happens a man is frozen to death before he can get to shelter or get up his tent and start a fire. — B. S. Rodey in Albuquerque Herald.