New national era. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1870-1874, 1872-11-07
The Hunors Of the Epidemic.


If Marx Tapley were III town to-day he
would find such a combination Of untoward
circumstances that he could not resist the
temptation to be - awfuly jolly." He would
pity the suffering horses to be sure, but then
he would find great consolation in the fact
that the Epidemic which afflicts them il only
an affection, and not q fatality. lie would
90 without hot milk to his coffee, or ice to his
goblet. with the utmost chcerfulness, conf
dent that both of these adjuncts to his break
last would reappear with the sunshine, and
contented till the good tirNe should return.
If Mark had had to walk down town to his
place of business in the sloppy rain Of this
morning, he would have chuckled over his
wetness, insisting that there was some credit
to be gained by looming out strong" under
conditions discOulaging to uncheerful men
perhaps swinging his hat aloft in triumph, as
he did when he turned his back upon a snug
home and a buXom landlady to seek his for
tune in some quarter of the earth where the
atmosphere Of comfort might prove TO be less
cncrvating.
But Mark was not in town 10 do all this.
Quite the contrary. Neither he nor a single
representative of his family has been visible
in New York or Brooklyn for three days.
Broadway was thronged yesterday and this
morning with sour and damp pedestrians,
YEARLY tredging their way on foot through
heavy downtalls OF rain, looking hOpelessly
for conveyance, and glOOmily wondering
'how long this sort of thing was TO last"
The unfortunate beings whose homes lie
above Fiftieth street in New York, or "on
the hill' in Brooklyn, three miles away from
the ferry, came down painting with fatigue
and wetter than drowned rats. Those who
essayed to go to places Of amusement last
night found it impossible to engage carriages
at their fayOrite stables. The grocer failed to
appear promptly with his parcels for to-day's
dinner; the butcher also failed the baker
became invisible the merchant cannot to-
day send home the goods purchased by his
customers; the express companies cannot
deliver bundles at the piers; the railroad
and steamboat lines are compelled to reject
new freight until such time as they can clear
away the enormous accumuatiOns that tax
their resources to the utmost races are de-
ferred, because there are no well horses to
strive Tor the prizes truckmen are losing
daily the proceeds of the labor which sup
ports their families ; thousands Of households
thi, Saturday need coal for Sunday, but will
have to do without it doctors make their
calls on foot, and Mrs. Potiphar, who doesn't
like To be put on a footing with common
people, remains sulkily at home, feeling as
dismal as Irving 5 famous traveller caught in
a country inn on Il rainy Sunday. New York
has never seen anything like this since the
dreadful riot week iii 1868, when everything
was stopped-including the good order and
safety OF the community. Neither of these
is at risk now--and that j. a consolation
amid the general misery.
But if this condition Of affairs goes on
much longer there will he need of new
edition of Roget's "Thesaurus." Nobody
seems to know what name to apply to the
prevalent disorder. One of the newspapers
calls it typhoid laryngitis; another the hip
pozymoss Others the horse plague, disease,
or distemper; others again, more elegant in
their tastes, style it the " equine epidemic''-
and this morning there is pleasing variety
and novelty in the application Of such terms
as the epizootic, epizooty, and epihippic.
Will some one invent a name which all men
may agree upon, and be able to pronounce?
And shall we not cultivate our patience till
the frost and the sunshine come to end our
woes Nee York Commercial 4dre1tiser