Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 79, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 April 1911 — Page 3

Is YOUR DOG GOING MAD?

I • r " ..Vi _y\ .J-vV *■ ' NYONE can foil when a j dog is going mad and prevent him from doing harm. The symptoms develop over a period of from three to eight days before the biting mania seizes him. Meanwhile I he gives a hundred warnings. All that is neces-

w

•ary is to chain him. That this piece of information has JUrt been given publicity before, except in the case of a few New England towns, is due to the general lack Of oaution, but, with the alarming Increase of rabies both in animals and men, it has become essential. Too many dogs are going mad every day. Something will have to be done about It. The disease is now so prevalent that it is pertinent to ask: * Is your dog- going mad too? This questlpn may strike you as unnecessarily alarming, especially if you happen to live where there have never been any mad dogs. In that case you are to be congratulated. Places with such a record are becoming rare. Your turn may be next. J Left to spread as far. as it might, with practically no attempt to stop it, rabies during the past few years has become thickly disseminated over the whole of the United States, except the far West. Along the Atlantic coast and in the middle West, both North and South, there is hardly a district unaffected by it, and each additional dog that goes mad is carrying it as far as he can travel in two or three days' time. It has arrived at the point 'where it threatens everyone, and, If it were not for the twenty-five or more Institutions which are now giving the 'Pasteur treatment in the affected districts, the number of human deaths would be startling. Three years, ago rabies began to press Itself upon public attention. Up to that time It had never appeared asfjbuch of a danger in America, although mad dogs had shown themselves at intervals for more than a century. Each in Itself had always been a terrifying object, but the numbers were comparatively scarce. Conservative estimates of the medical men and boards of health place the number of deaths annually from this dread disease at 20,000. The question of what to do is also before this country. Two courses are ppen: policing and a study of the disease which may lead to its prevention. Effective policing has always meant a rigid muzzle and leash law and the chloroforming of all stray dogs. But it has been proved to be successful. After centuries of terror over rabid animals, England, since 1897, has succeeded by this means in remaining rid of them entirely, and only a few months ago when some of the virus* , was needed in a research laboratory in Liverpool it had to be obtained outside the country. Berlin has practically eradicated the disease within the city following an epidemic during which a dog went mad on the streets •very day. Paris, overcoming a sentimental opposition, reduced the mad dogs from 560 during the year 1901 to 10 In 1907, simply by compelling owners to look afW their pets. ’ Attempts to stop the disease in this country have been spasmodic and hysterical. It has required the death Of some well-known person or some unusual circumstance to awaken the police.

There are three ty£es of rabies: furious, which we recognize; dumb, which we do not; and a mixture of the two. The furious 1b the most important The first action on the part of a dog which points to furious rabies is a marked and unusual restlessness. He Jumps up constantly without canse and is hypersensitive to light and sound. He snoops in dark corners and licks everything nervously. He becomes effusive In bis affection, and his master, wondering, feels that there is trouble, and asks the poor dumb brute what alls him. Then, all at once, his disposition changes. He snaps suddenly, and the next instant wags his tall in apology for his action. In a moment he snaps again. Meanwhile he eats aqyl drinks normally and shows no sign of paralysis, which we’have been taught to look for when rabies Is suspected. The restlessness Increases in a way that can hardly fall of notice, and then a night comes when he gives little gasping howls, which sound as if they had been choked off In the middle. Anyone who has ever heard this howl kpows instinctively that there Is something wrong. There is no confusing it with the ordinary barking at passing or imaginary objects, and it sounds nothing at all like baying at the moon. The howls are senseless and the hearer realizes it. At first the dog remains near the house, giving his master ample time to take action. In fact he forces the attention of everyone within hearing and spreads a vague uneasiness. His howls get on the nerves of those within door* and they are rather apt to call out to him to be still. Some comment Is probably made on the peculiar effect his howling has. A timid member of the household suggests that the dog is going mad, hut the idea is scouted. When this has gone on half the night, and the family Is distraught for lack of sleep, the howls begin to grow fainter and the family falls into a peaceful sleep. But the dog has gone •way to menace the surrounding country for fifty or a hundred miles. He wanders aimlessly, the disease grlpying him tighter lour by hour, and..

BY ARNO DOSCH

copy'f?iai-iT av -2* fs>e*ftson pub ca

when the morning comes, he is foaming at the mouth —a mad dog. The biting mania is on him, and he attacks everything, cattle, horses, dogs, cats, children. Fortunately the only other animal which gets the biting mania is the horse. The disease is spread in almost every case by dogs. After two or three days, if he has not meanwhile been shot, he comes badk, but, by this time, he has done his damage. He is weak in the hind legs, then in the fore legs. His eyes become covered with a film and his under Jaw hangs down. Before long general paralysis sets in and he dies. The warning which can hardly fail to be noticed is the howl, and, when his owner hears this, it Is high time to- act He can be caught without much danger of biting, as a mad dog only attacks his master when the disease has completely captured his mind. But the Saliva 1b already virulent, and gloves should be worn. Otherwise a little of It penetrating the sldn or rubbed from the hand to a freshly shaved chin is enough to communicate the disease. In dumb rabies the first sign is the dropping of the Jaw. When this happens to a dog, it is only necessary to place a dish of water before him to discover whether he has rabies. He will lick at it, if rabid, but he will not be able to swallow, and the Smount in the dish will remain the same. As he cannot bite he is not very dangerous, but his saliva is as virulent as if he had furious rabies, and he should be kept apart. Usually a dog with dumb rabies Is believed to have a bone in his throat, and some kindly person puts a hand in his mouthliterally into the Jaws of death. « In mixed rabies the dog is more or less furious. He showfc some of the symptoms of*both the other forms. About the only other diseases to which* dogs are prone show themselves in a way not to be confused with rabies. Gastric trouble and rheumatism appear much as in human beings, and distemper is accompanied by coughing and sneezing, a high fever and running at the eyes. The cardinal rut» is never to kill a biting dog if possible to avoid it. Catch and chain him, and wait to see if the symptoms of rabies develop. If he is all right at the end of a week those he bit may breathe more freely, but, if he becomes rabid, they have no time to lose* With the Increase in rabies some knowledge of what to do for a dog’s victims is as essential as a pocket supply of potassium permanganate in the rattlesnake country. Dr. George G. Rambaud, of the Pasteur Institute of New York, gives the following directions as first aid to the injured: “The wounds should be treated like any other infected wounds. Bleeding should be encouraged, as a free flow j)t blood may carry off with It a great part of the virus. Then the wound should be thoroughly-washed with any good antiseptic solution. The newer colloidal silver or silver-salt preparations are to be preferred, but, in their absence, iodine, a four per cent solution of carbolic acid, or even lemon Juice, are useful.” Cauterisation, the oldest treatment,

Joe Laver Involuntarily discovered the best place to bide that he ever came across while playing hide-and-seek with a number of playmates at Third avenue and One Hundredth street, near an excavation tor pneiv matte tubes for the post office. Joe, who is four years old, disappeared from the ken of Isadore Ross, who was 'it,” as completely os though he hod been drawn into the tubes. But It was not the tube* that got him. "lasy” had just finished counting when he caught sight of Joe ducking behind a Third Avenue ear. He was not sure, and ran around to the other side of the car to look, but there was no Joe there. "Issy" went and told Joe’s mother he was lost Twelve blocks away a number of boys ran out and pointed at the front of the oar and

Dr. Rambaud decries because, he says, it gives a false sense of security. But Dr. Anna Williams, who is devoting her life to the study of rabies in the research laboratory of the New York. Board of Health, says she is willing to take her chances on if the wound is not too deep. The average person, however, will prefer to take the Pasteur treatment. Since its discovery in 1884 it has been tried on more than 250,000 people, and of ‘those who took it only one-half of one per cent have died. On the subject of the disease itself there is not much room for question. The existence of the virus has been proved beyond all reasonable doubt by inoculating a whole series of dogs, one from another, and having each one de? velop the same symptoms and die in the same way. But, what has stood in the way of a greater knowledge, aside from the treatment, has been the doubt as to the nature of the virus. Some hold it is a bacterium, the lowest form of plant life, and others that it is a protozoon, the lowestf form of animal life. Bacteria are subject to epidemics; the known/ protozoons are not. The layman can only Imps for the protozoon conclusion. The Pasteur treatment normally consists of injections into the flank of an emulsion of small portions of ths spinal cord of Inoculated rabbits dissolved in a salt solution. Fbr bites on the hand or body, if the patient begins the treatment within a week, it is continued for eighteen days. If the delay is greater, it is continued for several days longer. Pasteur himself laid down the rules which have been followed more or less closely ever since. But experience has shown that this treatment is much less successful for* bites on the face, where the reach to the nerve center is shorter. To meet the emergency face bites have given rise to, within the past two years a new treatment hqs been developed which Immunizes the, patient in twelve days. It is rather heroic, but it has been used a great many times without bad results, saving the lives of many who had no time to spare. Instead of hsing virus the virulence of which has been allowed to die out, as in the old method, the emulsion consists of a serum obtained from sheep strongly Immunized against rabies mixed with fresh virulent virus. The Pasteur treatment is only preventive. The serum meets and grapples with the virus on its way up the nerve to the brain. Once it has reached the nerve center, it defies treatmnt But, if you do not know you have been exposed, your first Intimation is after the virus is in the brain engaged in its fateful work. Death from rabies has become too common to occupy a front-page position in the newspapers. That alone shows the prevalence of the disease. Tomorrow or next week, when you read of little children being bitten on the street, remember that one of those children might have been yours. Imagine, then, the furious animal rushing at your child, tearing at his face and body!—ls the picture too horrible? It is happening every day. Your child may be next. i

Now Joe is “It”

shouted to the motorman. He broutfit his car to a step. When he got out he found a small boy whimpering on the fonder. That was Joe.—New York Tribune.

Not the Means, But End.

"Senator." the beautiful girl Inquired, "are you in favor of befog elected by the direct votes of the people.” • . “My dear young lady,” the statesman replied, “I am enthusiastically la favor of befog elected thus or In any other way that can be arranged.” The world is divided Into two class* er those who go ahead and do some, thing, and those who sit still and inquire. “Why wasn’t it dona the othss wayr-O. W. Holmes

TO REMOVE STAINS

ENQLIfH WAYS OF TAKING OUT! V VARIOUS SPOTS. Soft Soap and Paste of Salt and Water for Fruit Stains—Pure Alcohol Wiii Take Out Grass ( Stains. Fruit stains should be treated ati once, says an English writer in the' Queen, for if allowed to set they are! difficult to remove. Rub the stain with/ soft soap or good yellow soap, well wetted, then cover it with a paste of salt and water. Or rub the stain well on both sides with a good yellow soap, and then tie over It a little pearl ash, and let It all soak in hot water, boiling it if necessary; rinse well and dry in the open air. If the stain is very persistent try the following: Crush four ounces of chloride of liine in a basin and work it to a smooth paste with a little cold water; when perfectly mixed, add to this from one and a half to one 'and three-quarter pints more cold water, using in all two pints of water, now stir the lime well, cover closely, and let it stand for a day or two, stirring it occasionally. Now leave it till quite settled, when you skim it, pour off the clear liquid, straining It into a bottle, and keep tightly stoppered. To remove the stains rub the spot with a rag dipped in the mixture, rinsing It at once after the spot Is removed in clean cold or tepid water. Should the article be badly soak it in cold water to which you have added sufficient of the mixture to make the water smell slightly of lime; watch this, and directly the stains are removed lift out the linen, rinse well, and dry in the open air In the sun if possible. Care must be taken with this, for if the linen be left in too long the -bleach will rot it. This remedy will remove almost any stains. If the fingers are stained from walnuts dip them In strong tea, rubbing the nails well with it with a nail brush, and wash the hands at once in warm water and the stains will at once disappear. If grass stains on cotton are rubbed with pure alcohol they will disappear, but this should be done at once.' For claret stains soak the cloth at once in skim milk two or three times and wash out in cold water. To make balls for removing grease stains mix well 1% ounces of powdered French chalk and 5 ounces of powdered pipeclay, then work them to a paste with 2 ounces of spirits of wine, shape this paste into balls and leave them to dry. ‘To use, moisten the grease stains wefl with warm water, then rub them thoroughly with the ball; now let dry, if possible in the sun; then brush well and sponge with a little water if any stain be left. To clean discolored hearths mix whiting to a thin paste with skim milk, adding a drop or two of liquid blue or a morsel of Btone blue. Put it on the hearthstone with a paint brush- This does not crack off. White stains on polished ufbod caused by upsetting any spirit or by overhot dishes or plates may be removed by applying to these spots a feather dipped in spirits of camphor. This must be used very sparingly and the furniture rubbed well at once with a cloth dipped in sweet oil, repeating the process if necessary. When the stain is completely removed polish well with beeswax and turpentine or any good furniture polish. To clean ivory rub the stains with lemon juice, then with whiting into a soft paste with lemon juice; allow this to dry on, and when perfectly dry wipe off with a soft cloth. For mildew stains first brush off any loose mildew, then well rub in a little common salt, sprinkling it with powdered French chalk and thoroughly moistening it with clean cold water; after this dry slowly in the open air and then rinse well. This may require to be reepated. Mildew on leather may be removed by rubbing the pla<;e well with a clean, dry and very soft cloth to remove any fungus that may be on the surface of the leather, then rub over with a rag just moistened with pyroligneous acid.

Brown Bread Brewis.

Break one pint of dry brown bread and one-half cup of stale white bread Into Inch pieces. Put a tablespoon of butter In a large frying pan, and when it la melted, but not brown, add the bread and cover with one pint or more of milk. Let It simmer, stirring occasionally to keep it from sticking, until the bread la soft and the milk absorbed. Salt to taste.

Pineapple Salad.

Place on a salad dish a leaf of lettuce and a slice of pineapple and on top a few sllcea of red pepper; over this pour a tablespoonful of olive oil, a teaspoonful of vinegar, and pepper and salt to taste. This mattes a favorite salad for luncheon.

Stuffed Celery.

Wash tender celery hearts and put them Into cold water to become crisp. Mash fresh cream cheese, then add chopped nuts and chopped olives to taste. Stuff the celery just before serving and serve with toasted crackers.

Marshmallow Cream.

Try this in the place of ice cream: One pint of cream whipped stiff, onehalf pound of fresh marshmallows cut fine, one-half cup chopped English walnuts. Serve with angel cake.-

Tim Farrell’s Fear

By MICHAEL J. PORTER

(Copyright, igxi, by Associated Literary Preae.)

Tim Farrell was mortally, shudderingly afraid of snakes. And now, when Sam Le Blanc suddenly thrust a wretched little half-frozen reptile at him, he retreated so abjectly that he nearly fell off the dike. He could not help the instinctive recoil, and his face darkened angrily When the other young people shouted with laughter. The birdlike notes of Tolnette Marcelle rang out clearest of all. ‘Yah!” taunted the grinning Sam; "afraid of a little snake. He’s a ceward!” "Call me a coward again and I’ll punch your Jaw,” retorted Tim, advancing with double fists. A fight is. a treat at Prairieton, and the group of men about the two stalwart youths pushed closer. The half-dozen girls drew aside, fearfully. But before a'blow could be struck the superintendent of the farms appeared, coming up the side of the dike in long strides. Le Blanc quietly dropped the snake which he had been flourishing. The superintendent gave no hint that he had understood the militant scene. “This way, you chaps,” he said, brusquely. “There’s a weak spot behind the barns. Let’s get busy and patch it up.” He led the way along the dike. On the .left the yellow, swollen flood of the river lapped within a few inches of the top. On the right big puddles were beginning to form among the patches of snow in the beet fields. It was yet early March, though rain had fallen steadily for two weeks. The great sugar-beet plain was in imminent danger of being Inundated. There was a discipline almost military on Prairieton forms. It was Sunday, and the men had worked night and day for more than a week in an endeavor to keep out the encroaching water; yet there was no lagging and no complaint Even Farrell and Le Blanc worked side by side, without open sign of enmity, staggering up the muddy dike under unwieldy bags of sand. The others, including the superintendent glanced curiously at them now and then. For they knew that while the budding quarrel between the two young men was apparently over a scant efght inches of frozen snake, Toinette Marcelle was really at the bottom of it —gay Tittle Toinette, whose lips were red add whose eyes were brown. During the past summer, as she weeded and hoed in the rich black soil of the fields, Farrell was always on' one side, Sam Le Blanc on the other. The rivalry had intensified during the merrymaking of the slack time, the winter. The other young men had withdrawn from the lists which contained two such sturdy and masterful knights. The farms are in a gigantic t>asin. Five miles above three rivers unite. During the spring rains of other years, before reclamation, the overflow had covered thousands of acres to a depth of ten feet Since the dikes had been built the flood had been kept in the channel. But they had never been subjected to such a strain ds this. The patching was done; the men straightened their backs. "I don’t like th'e looks of that” said the superintendent grimly, waving his arm to the east, where the ice and driftwood whirled past at racing speed. "This thaw is a month too early; there’s a mountain of snow still to the south of us. If it rains tonight—” He paused, then continued: “Farrell, go over to the settlement and see that every family is ready to congregate on the high ground at a moment's notice. Kelly, Le Blanc and Smith get the boots out and fit them with oars. There should be a lantern in each boat, too. “The rest of you better snatch a bite to eat I guess we’re up against it. Two revolver shots will be the signal that the dike is going.” .\„Ue mounted his horse and splashed off upstream to a dangerous bend, where most of the men were at work. The young people descended the dike, each girl with her cavalier. Tim Farrell extended his hand to Toinette —and regretted it She glanced significantly at the numbed snake, lying where Le Blanc had dropped It and turned away. A moment later Sam, flushed <wlth gratification, had clasped the warm, slender fingers and was siding her down the slope. Tim, sorehearted, went silently On his errand. The clouds that bad broken away somewhat during the day thickened again. With the approach of night the dreaded patter of rain on the roof began. The water crept up Inside the dike. The pools swelled and Joined. By ten o’clock the fields and even the streets of the little settlement were covered. The dike, however, still held. At 11 the superintendent and the men splashed back from up the river. The supply of sandbags was exhausted, and the dike was wearing away rapidly at the bend. It could not last more than an hour. They were beaten. Two shots in rapid succession called the people from their homes to the knoll on which too company store stood. , They were hastily apportioned among the boats. ’ "Two men and four women and

children to eaeh scow,” said the soperlntendent, calm and forceful among the hnbhub of pale-faced adults and weeping little one/i. “Bet* ter get started. There’s more than 18 Inches of water over the fields now—enough to float you. Bear away to the west to Granger village. It’s only three miles. I’ve telephoned over, and you’ll get shelter. Hurry now. If that dike breaks well be over our heads in a jiffy.”’ The boats wete launched without mishap and streamed off in . a long procession, a lantern gleaming’bravely in the bow of each. The superintendent and a few men stayed behind to liberate the live stock and head it toward safety. It was then that Gaston Marcelle beat his breast and cried aloud: *‘l forgot Toinette! She went back to the house. She’s there alone. I was coming with a boat, and I forgot!” A grinding roar from behind struck terror to their hearts. The dike at the bend had broken! Marcelle'* little home, a quarter of a mile to the north, was In the path- of the onrushing torrent. Tim Farrell looked at Marcelle, and saw that the palsy of feeble and frightened old age was upon him. He glanced at Sam Leßlanc; but Le Blanc’s face was pasty In the lantern light, and his hands tremble^. Farrell spoke in a vibrant-voice. - "If you get away now and row hard to the west you can make it. The full force of the flood will swing in , here, and not farther out. Til go down after Toinette.” “Good!” Bald the superintendent, tersely. “Two to a boat, and row for your lives. You’re going with Tim, Leßlanc?” The roar of' the river Increased In volume until the knoll on which they were standing seemed to quiver in sympathy. Leßlanc’s teeth chattered. “N —no,” he stammered, there’s no use of my going.” “You eowagd.” said the superintendent, dispassionately; "you dirty coward!" Tim rowed away on the crest > of the flood. Marcelle’s house was rocking when his boat swept against it Toinette was in an upper window; the steady light of the lamp which she held had guided him. With a word of encouragement be drew the frightened girl .into the boat, and shoved dear with an oar. For a moment the little craft tossed wildly as they passed through a breach in the dike which opened under the terrific impact of the waters. Then the danger was over and they fled peacefully on the bosom of the swift-running river. The Marcelle home bad collapsed like a house of cardß, and its wreckage floated all about them. Fbr awhile Toinette crouched trembling in the bottom of the boat. Then she looked at him. When she spoke thcae was a note In her voice Tim bad never heard there before. “I knew you would come, Tim — you, and nobody else. For you're not a coward, and you never were. Can you forgive me for—for this afternoon?” "Oh, that’s all right,” replied the cheerful Tim. “I am afraid of snakes —awful afraid. But say, Toinette, I don’t know where we’re going to stop. We may float clear to Saginaw. The whole country's under water." The girl sighed contentedly. “Well, 1 don’t mind; It Isn’t cold.- And you’ll take care of me.” Tim thrilled at the tone as much as at the words. He looked about him, over the yellow waste of waters, lighted by his lantern and .by the full moon which tried bravely to shine through the thinning clouds. “Good old flood!” be said fervently. And Toinette must have under-, stood, for she smiled—and blushed.

Restores Old Chemical Laboratory.

The old chemical laboratory of Gleesen university, where Liebig from 1824 to 1862 did his epoch making work, should be a shrine to all men of science, and It Is now to be preserved as one. According to a contemporary, a committee of the university and, of eminent scientists is going to acquire the premises from the municipality and to preserve them in perpetuity as a Liebig memorial museum. The Interior will be restored as a faithful reproduction of the old laboratory, and will exhibit the history of chemistry tn all its developments. It was the first university laboratory, and in its day was the only place in the world where important chemical experiments could be performed and witnessed.

Very Particular.

Beggar (to whom madam has given a coat) —If a policeman sees me te this coat, ma'am, bell run me in. Madam —What's the matter with it? ICy husband has always wont It In the house until now. Beggar—Yes, in the house, but you see I have to wear It on the streetFllegende Blaetter.

Fooling the Flirt.

"Ah, pretty one," fawned tho lady killer, “did I hot see you waving your handkerchief out of the window at mar “You flatter yourself,'' icily retorted the maid. "1 was merely shaking out a dust cloth."—Judge. . • v ,u[ ■- t. ■ I