Middletown transcript., 1876-07-29
Our New York Letter.
New York, July 2lst, 1876.
EFFECTS OF THE HEAT.

NEW AOhh3 OuiJ @ASti 1890.
EFFECTS OF THE HEAT.
No let up yet Burning days and
sultry nights continue to follow each in
monotonous and well-nigh intolerable
succession. Occasional thunder clouds
and still more infrequent showers give
delusive promise of GOODNESS which
never comes. The little rain we get is
itself warm and its only effect is to in
crease our discomfort by saturating the
muggy air and, by stopping the evap-
oration from our bodies, to cut off the
one poor means of relief which was left
us. The steady. pitiless heat has con-
tinued SO long that it has penetrated
the usually cool cellars and the most
carefully closed houses The walls Of
stone and brick having no opportunity
Of cooling during the night are burning
to the touch The pavements and roofs
send up quivering exhalations. Even
Central Park offers nothing refreshing.
The great bouldcrs and masses Of rock
which usually form the favorite resting
places Of hundreds who resort there in
the evening, are turned into huge radi-
ators that fairly cook their gasping oc-
cupants. The weak ones among US are
dying fast, and every day saps more
and more the vitality Of the strong
The heat bids fair to rival in destruc-
tiveness the severest epidemic.
If this amount Of suffering were of
mems infiction there would have been
second revolution inaugurated here
long before this But against the forces
which now oppose us there is NJ rebel
ling, so that all that is left to suffer-
ing humanity is endurance and such
alleviation as is attainable. In the case
Of the rich this is considerable, as there
are plenty of places where one can keep
comfortable if he has the money and the
time for recreation. Foremost among
the neighboring watering places is of
course old Long Branch, famed for its
presidential occupancy, and the unceas-
ing patronage of New York's creme de
la creme. Running along line of low
bluff, overlooking the ocean, the town
or rather collection of elegant hotels
and cottages-is almost never without
it's cool, salt breeze, which effectually
prevents the ardent sun from making a
sultry atmosphere.
| THE WATERING PLACES
Next to Long Branch comes Fire Is
land, little sandy oasis some eight
miles out in the desert Of waters. Less
gay and fashionable than Long Branch,
it is still very, "high-toned" and select,
the guests there being almost exclu-
sively of the ''F T. "" order
For the middle and lower classes,
whose purses are short and whose op-
portunities for recreation are limited to
Sundays, and an occasional afternoon.
the great resorts are Coney Island and
Rockaway on the outer shore Of Long
leland. To these places where the
fares from town are but 20 and 25 cents
respectively, the middle classes pour in
shoals and multitudes. They are ac-
cessible both by rail and boat, the lat
ter mode Of transportation being very
naturally the favorite one, except with
those whose stomachs cannot stand even
the slight agitation Of SO short voyage
To the former place the trip is made
entirely in sheltered water, and the
motion Of the boat is little or nothing /;
but to reach Rockaway the little
steamers have to struggle for an hour
out in the open sea, beyond the protect
ing arm Of Sandy Hook The oppor-
tunity thus afforded to get crooked in
the Grade Of the deep" is often a good
one and its effect on the boisterous hi-
larity Of the pleasure seekers is often
quite marked. They will come sailing
down the bay on an even keel, singing,
"A Life on the Ocean Wave." or some
thing equally festive, but as soon as the
Narrows are passed, the gentle ground
swell tilts up first one end Of the boat
and then the other, till after ten or if
teen minutes Of loudly asserted enjoy
ment, songs and laughter begin to get
feeble, the squeamish Jones edge up to
the rail and subdued melancholy
begins to prevade the company But
seasickness though not the pleasantest
thing in life, is not very serious, and
by the time their destination is reached
the excursionists are again ready for
good time. all the better prepared by
their late experiences for slowing away
the roast clans for which Rockaway is
famous. Both here and at Coney Is
land the surf bathing is fine and is daily
enjoyed to the utmost by thousands -
The shelving beaches are lined with
apparently endless rows Of bathing hou-
ses-little coops hardly large enough
to turn round in, where the would-be
bather divests him or herself Of all tog-
gerry and dons the hideous bathing suit,
previously hired from the proprietors
A more complete tFaasmegFifeatien than
that Of a fashionably dressed young lady
on such occasions, it would be difficult
to imagine. Instead Of following the
true order. going in a chrysalis to
emerge a butterfly, she disappears but
terfy to reappear one eff the most dis
couraged looking chrysalies that ever
existed A coarse. baggy suit coming
little below the elbow and knee hangs
shapelessly on a form which may be
Verus-like or the contrary, but which
certainly gets no Aattery from its pres
ent covering. Her false hair is all gone
and what little remains is wound into a
tight little ball on her crown. This is
covered by large, coarse. torn straw
hat tied under tbe.chin She evidently
has a general feeling that she is '.all
outdoors" and paddles down to the
water. knees and elbows in. blushing
like red, red rose With the first wet
ting comes the crucial test. While the
dress is dry it does afford some slight
disguise, but the moment it is soaked
good bye concealment. Clinging like