"Silk Hats For Hire"

1910

Sign In Old Dickens' Quarters, London, Forced to Go Under Modern Pressure

London. — Among the landmarks of London that have disappeared of late are some old shops in Houghton street, Kingsway, the district that Dickens loved. The irruption of the house-breaker into this little thoroughfare has done more to disturb old buildings to make way for modern office blocks — it has displaced an old world little man, Christopher Clark, whose business for years has been one of the queerest in all London.

Till the London county council laid reforming hands on the dim little shop it bore in the window the notice:

Gentlemen's Silk Hats
Lent on Hire for Weddings
and Funerals.

The old man seemed strangely out of place in the daylight that had been let into that hitherto dingy bypath of the metropolis as he stood by the door a day or two before closing the shop for the last time and retiring as an old age pensioner. A big white apron enveloped his bent form and he peered suspiciously at the questioner who asked him how he fared.

Gradually, however, he thawed and admitted that he was eighty-four years old. "Certainly, I have had a good business. This used to be a good street for trade. Lawyers used to use it as a route to the courts, but all those changes are taking the life out of London. Folks now get underground like moles when they want to move about the city. And every messenger boy who wants to, sports a cheap tall hat.

"What sort of customers? Most respectable customers I have always had. If a silk hat was wanted for some special occasion I would supply a good one for a shilling a day — a hat no man could fail to be proud to go out in.

"A shilling a day, mark you" (the old man lovingly polished a shining specimen of his head gear with his sleeve), "and the hat to be returned to me in the condition in which it left the shop. Should a client require a hat for more than a day a reduction would be made. There was no fixed charge. There were times when a man positively had to have a silk hat, and — well, I was not too hard on the man whose fortune was small."

"No, trade latterly has not been always brisk. It has sometimes happened that more than a month has passed before a client has come in here to hire a hat, though sometimes I might have as many as four in a day. It used to be very different. Not even a funeral is conducted decently nowadays Everything is rush and tear."

And the old man sighed as he thought of the former days, when times were good and Londoners jogged comfortably along, with the silk hat as their badge of respectability on special occasions.

Ambulance Horse Sad To Be Replaced By Monstrous Motor Ambulance

Atlanta, 1913

Replaced by Motor Ambulance, "Faithful John" Dying of Grief

Faithful John awoke in his stall attached to Grady Hospital one morning not so long ago and began munching the customary breakfast of hay. As his eyes roved over the familiar interior of the stable they alighted upon a bulky intruder which looked as if it had come to stay. There was something suspicious about the monster-on-wheels that stood near Faithful John in the stables, and when he had finished his morning meal he began to inspect it and to meditate. In the midst of meditation there came a whirr and clang clang from the big gong at the far end of the stables. It was the emergency ambulance call.

Faithful John threw up his head, champed his bit and stamped and pawed the ground in eager anticipation. The stable attaches never did come quick enough for the loyal horse when the overhead gong summoned him to a wild dash across the streets. Faithful John awaited nervously, but no attache came to unloose him and lead him under the swinging harness.

Instead, a small, alert young man leaped to the seat of the suspicious monster who had come that morning, started a roar somewhere in its depths, clanged an unfamiliar gong and yelled a precautionary Lookout. The huge thing snorted and raged and chugged through the door of the stable, leaving a choking, blinding cloud of vapor behind.

John realized his doom. They were replacing him with one of the horseless devils he encountered every day on the streets — one of those things that whizz by with a snort and a roar. He had been a good horse and faithful and had never failed to answer the joyous summons from the big gong overhead. But now they were done with him, he was out-of-date and science had furnished something that could do more than he, and do it better and faster.

That was about a year ago. Ever since Grady's auto ambulance has performed the duties that once were performed, unassisted, by "Faithful John." The only runs he makes nowadays are when the machine ambulance is in the repair shop or on another call. And, although he dashes through the streets with the same avidity as of old he is breaking down with grief and his heart has been broken by the automobile.

He is 23 years old and has been in service for the hospital for seventeen of these. Dr. W. B. Summerall, superintendent of Grady, estimated yesterday that Faithful John had made as many as 25,000 runs and had covered fully as many as 50,000 miles, or more. In that time he is estimated to have saved as many as 100 lives or better. He is the fastest horse ever connected with the hospital or with any ambulance service in the city.

So far as can be ascertained, this horse's record outrivals the record of any heretofore brought to notice. Recently a fire horse in New York claimed a record of 15,000 runs. This was said to have been the highest ever attained.

Even though he becomes of no use whatever to the hospital Faithful John will be retained by Grady until his death. Then he will be buried with deserving honors and his grave will be somewhere in the fields where there are no roadways and where no rival automobiles can snort their noisy way to disturb his final slumbers as they disturbed his peace and happiness in life.

— The Atlanta Constitution, Atlanta, Georgia, April 13, 1913, page 2B.