Like the Valley of Death.
Valley Death. In the gas works at Twenty-third and Filbert streets, Philadelphia, one gets an idea of the valley of death. Here is the deadly cross fire like that through which the nonchalant Cardigan galloped. Two double rows of retorts, that must be heated for forty-eight hours before they have the proper temperature for gas-making, stretch clear across the building. In this lane of firemen work. " When I come out of there, after twentyeight minutes' work on my four retorts," said one to the reporter, " I can put my hand on top of my head and feel the blood leaping. I can roll up my sleeves and see it bounding in my veins. For seven or eight minutes after that, when I press my hand on ray heart as hard as I can, it seems as if the heart would jump through it. I am not a drinking man, and lam a strong one. To those who have that fire without and that wildfire within, as many of them have, not being able to do their work without stimulants, I can imagine what it must be. I have on rare occasions, and long ago —for I have been here fourteen years—taken a glass of whisky before going on. Upon my life, sir, I could feel the blood boiling within me. That ice water there, of which every man drinks from ten to fifteen quarts a day, positively tastes warm until you get two or three cups of it
down. That, with oatmeal in it, is the be^fc thins a man can dunk." "How long do men laat at the business?" " Some only thiee or four jear^, other 3 five or six, a few much longer." — Philadelphia Press.
— '"It is noL calumny nor Ucichcry," sajs ltudkin, " that doe-* th>> largest shaie of mis chief in the world; they are continually crushed and are only felt m being conqueied. But id is the glistening and softly spoken lie ; the amiable fallacy ; the patriotic lie of the historian, the pio\idcnt lie of the politician, tho zealous he of the partisan, the merciful he of the friend, and the careless lie of each man to himself that casts the black mystery over humanity through which every man who pierces we thank, as we would thank one who dug through a -well in a desert."
Tnis English sparrow is good for something after all. Two yonng men of Syracuse, N.Y., painter! r. lot of thorn yellow aud sold them for canaiies. They cairied with them a couple of genuine, elegant aingeis as a sample. The fraud was not discovered until the "beastly little English sparrows had dropped H's all over the house. — The Haulcije.
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Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1812, 16 February 1884, Page 2 (Supplement)
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454Like the Valley of Death. Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1812, 16 February 1884, Page 2 (Supplement)
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