Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1902-12-04
THE VALUE OF QUIET
Commercially 1t Is Great to Many
Weary City Dwellers.
Noise-Creating Agencies which Dis
turb the Rest-Hunter in or Near
the Metropolis and MUIR
der Sleep.

At the beginning of the outing sea-
son, when the inevitable question is:
'Where shall we go?" the young and
vigorous have a variety of possibilities
wherefrom to choose. But nerve
weary seekers after rest-a large and
rapidly-growing class confront an
almost insoluble problem, especially if
they must stay near the city, so that
the head of the house may go to his
daily work. Resorts are plentiful; but
New York itself is not more noisy than
most of them, writes John L. Heaton,
in Century. The result is that tired
men who need change to country air,
and who are well able to pay for it,
often stay and stile in their deserted
and c%omfortless city homes, simply be-
cause money cannot buy a chance to
rest at night. Perhaps a greater mum
Der of women more patiently continue
search for what they never find.
The commercial value of quiet,
brought to the attention of those who
need it, would be greater than that of
any other attraction of nature or So
ciety whose lure is spread in the adj
vertisements. Fortune awaits the man,
prosperity is ready to smile upon the
community, that will furnish quiet,
and let the world know that it is fur
nished.
I venture to list some of the more
usual murderers of sleep, with hints
for their suppression:
Dogs. To one who has difiulty in
sleeping, no experience of a night of
horrors is more m%addening than the
barking of dogs. 1t is a nuisance quite
without excuse, and easily abated by
q good board of health aided by eff
Gent police. As a rule, a $500 dog
makes less noise than a 50-cent one,
and a v~alueless, half-starved, owner
less vagrant outhowls them both. Pet
dogs that, after complaint, continue
to disturb the peace present a prob
lem; but as to the right course there
can be no question. The life of a man
or woman-and even the doctors can
not tell how many thousands of human
beings are yearly killed by noise-is
more to be considered than the life of
n pet.
Drunken Roistering.-The curse of
many a village summer resort is the
curse of politics. The need of votes at
election time keep the authorities
from suppressing disorder. In n
summer village near New York a whole
street built up with pretty cottages
is rendered almost uninhabitable be
cause boisterous characters have the
habit of making it their stamping
ground" Complaint is vain, and thou
sands of dollars worth of taxable
property is rendered nearly valueless.
To another cottage resort not far away
a man went last summer with the in
tent of buying land and building a
summer home. The first night he
spent there he was kept awake until
two a. m. by the maudlin singing and
laughter of a dozen voters with whom
no officer interfered; and the second
nights experience was the same. In
this case the money loss by noise to
the community could be reckoned
at a great many dollars per hour. The
cure? 1t is perfectly plain; has been
printed a thousand times. Wipe out
party lines in local affairs. Let decent
citizens unite for common-sense bust
ness administration.
Town Clocks.-To many, a clock that
strikes the hours is a pleasant break
in the m]onotony Of occasional wakeful-
ness; to those in quest of quiet it is
a relic of barbarism. In any village
there is always illness which is rem
dered more agonizing by noise, not to
speak of unfortunate refugees from
the city who would be glad to make
a restful summer haven.
Steam-whistles are unnecessary
where everybody Owns a watch. Rail-
way whistling and bell-ringing may
usually be brought to an "irreducible
minimum by the cooperation of the
company owning the line.
Wagons.-The rattle of the early
morning wagon can hardly be dis
pensed with until the milkman be-
comes a Chauffeur and rides on rubber
a change perhaps not remote. Mean
while, placing livery and other stables
at a distance from hotels will lessen
complaint.