Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1872-11-14
The Humors of the Epidemic.

! From the New York Com nercial Advertiser
If Marx Tapley were in town to-day
he would find such a combination of
untoward circumstances that he could
not resist the temptation to be lawfully
jolly" He would pity the suffering
horses, to be sure, but then he would
find great consolation in the fact that
the epidemic which affiicts them is only
an affiiction, and not a fatality. He
would go without bot milk to his coffee,
or ice to his goblet, with the utmost
cheerfulneSS, confident that both these
adjuncts to his breakfast would reap
pear with the sunshine, and contented
till the good time should return. If
Mark had to walk down town to
his place of business in the sloppy rain
of this morning, he would have cbuckl-
ed over his wetness, insisting that there
was some. credit to be gained by "com-
ing out strong" under conditions dis
couraging 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 fortune in some quarter of the
earth where the atmosphere of comfort
might prove to be less enervating.
But Mark was not in town to do all
this. Quite the contrary. Neither he
nor single representative ofhis family
has been visible in New York or Brook
lyn. for three days. Broadway was
thronged yesterday and this morning
with sour and damp pedestrians, wear
lily trudging their way on foot through
heavy downfalls of rain, looking hope
>fessly for conveyance, and gioomily
wondering slow long this sort of thing
was to last" The unfortunate beings
whose homes lie above F'iftieth street
in New York, or son the hilp' in Brook
lyn, 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 itimpossible to engage
carriages at their favorite 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 can
not deliver bundles at the piers; the
railroad and steamboat lines are COM
PEELED to reject new freight until such
time as they can clear away the enor-.
nous accumulations that tax their re-
sources to the utmost; races are deferred
because there are no well horses to
strive for the prizes; truckmen are los
ing, daily the proceeds of the labor
which support their families; thousands
ofihOuseholds this Saturday need coal
for Sunday, but will have to do without
it; doctors make their calls on foot, and
Mrs. Potiphar, who does not like to be
put on a footing with common people,
remains sulkily at home, feeling as
dismal as Irving,s. famous traveller
caught in a country inn on a rainy Sun
day. New York has never seen any
thing like this since the dreadful riot
week in 1853, when everything was
stepped-including the good order and
safety Of the community Neither of
these isIat risk now--and that is,a con-
ISOLATION amid the general misery.
But ifthis condition of affairs goes on
much longer there will be need of a
new edition of Roget's 'sThesaurus,"
Nobody seems to know what name to
apply to the prevalent disorder. One
of the newspapers calls it typhoid
iaryngtis; another, the hippozy ymosis;
others, the horse plague, disease, or dis
temper; others again, more elegant in
their tastes, styleit "equine epidemic;;D
and this morning there is a pleasing
variety and novelty in the application
of such terms. as 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