The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1913-08-11
THE HUMAN PROCESSION

| Fletcher, the father of 'FYetcherisrn '" | and in consequence the world is now l wagging it's jaws over it's food much | longer than was formerly its habit 1 Since Adam, or since the first man 1 monkey became monkey-man-you
 may take your choice-a million or
 more messiahs have offered as many
 ways to salvation, but it remained for
 MT Fletcher to preach salvation | through chewing. If you chew your food long enough you will be healthy,
 and if you are healthy you will be 1 happy, and if you are happy you will 1 be good, and if you are good-o1d proverbs withstanding-your days 1 will be long in the land, and when
 you die, if ever, you will go to heav- | en. Such is the doctrine which has | brought joy to the hearts of the press
 humorists and health to thousands Of invaltds and near-inValids, if we are l to believe their testimony
 Horace Fletcher, the chewoIogist was born in Lawrence, Mass, sixty four years ago. From his youth he wandered over the world and up and down in it, seeking what he might
 devour. According to his own admis- sion, he devoured about everything on
 the menu in all the lands he visited,
 gulping his food line like a boa con strictor or the average American. A rolling stone, he yet gathered mucn
 moss, principally as an importer of Oriental articles. He founded the first stores in America for the sale of Chinese and Japanese goods, but,
 about the time he acquired wealth.
 his tum-tum went on a strike. He was rich, but he was afflicted with dyspepsia, disordered matabolis;1,
 auto-intoxication, appendicitis, indi
 gestion, nervous depression and most of the other ailments consequent up on a-but see any patent medicine ad- Vertisenent for further horrid details. He placed himself under the care Of some of the best physicians of Amer ica and Europe, hoping they might bring about some agreement between himself and his striking stomach, but in vain- He was reduced to the very brink of the yawning abyss of des- pair, when suddenly the sun of truth broke through the dark clouds that enveloped him, and he saw a great light. He discovered the art of chew ing. He chewed his food, and chew ed his food, until his jaws were sore, and chewed again, and chewed again, and then. he chewed some more. His health fully restored by this process of chewing, he determined to devote the remainder of his life to the study of human nutrition and to the pro paganda of his great discoveries. His research work has been carried on in the physiological laboratories of Cam bridge University and Yale, and his theories have won the commendation of many eminent scientists of both America and Europe MT Fletcher is still a confirmed globe-trotter, but his principal home is the PaIazzo Safbante, on the Grande Canal in Venice.
 Dr. J. Riddle Goffe, one of the fore most of American surgeons, was born in Kenosha, Wis, sixty-two years ago. During his long career he has been highly honored by his professional col leagues, and last year was chosen president of the International Con gress of Gynecology. During the ex- citement~ over the discovery of sup posed cure for. tuberculosis, Dr: Goffe voiced the opinions of many doctors when he said:
 The optimism of the tuberculosis patient is unbounded, and the very thought that a cure has at last come is all that is necessary to produce a condition of surprising improvement that may last for days even weeks. The reaction brings depression and hastens the end, and even leads, in many cases, to suicide. Therefore the medical profession, in it's attitude of conservatism, is not actually by jea1- ousy, but is simply looking to the ulti- mate welfare of the general puo1ic.''
 There was a time-and those were the happy days for those who like ructions-when Benjamin Ryan Till man lived up to his sobriquet of "Pitchfork." For many years the United States senator from South | Carolina was the life of the party, l and he had no equal for vivacity and the ability to stir up, breed, foment and otherwise propagate excite anG engender trouble, with a capital T. 1 When Benjamin R. Ti11man marched | down the halls of the American Con- | gress and heaved his shining pitch | fork Full and fair against the brazen beasts of the political enemy, the gen tlemen of the Fourth Estate reached l for their asbestos pads and prepared l to take down his remarks. And when | not engaged in fighting the Republi- | cans and such rabble, the Senator | from South Carolina turned looose the l vials of his wrath upon anybody that was convenient, and on one occasion i engaged in a fistic encounter with his associates, Senator McLaurin. Which leads up to the statement that Sena- l tor Ti1Iman will celebrate his sixty | sixth birthday today, and, being old and far from well, he has become a | time and domesticated senator, and no longer a hunter of trouble. This is a source of grief in Washington, l and even his friends the enemy long for the old days when the pitchfork was an object of terror. The fires of wrath no longer burn under the frock coat of he who was once famed as ''Belligerent Ben," and he has for given everybody everything, save and except smokers of tobacco. He is the
 most active member of the Washing 1 ton branch of the Society for the Sup | pression of Human Chimneys, and re- centlN attempted to banish the cigar. | pipe and cigarette from the Capitol. l For several years Senator Tillman | was paralytic, and his case was consid dered hopeless, but he is now al | most wholly recovered. He attributes
 his winning fight against death to the | adoption of a system of exercises, | which he took up and followed with | grin determination at a time when his | colleagues were daily expecting news |