New Britain herald., 1917-11-03

carried to the hospital in such in stances are those who have met with foul play, as in the case of shooting or cutting, or those who are stricken on public highways. And it was plain to see this man was quietly dying in Mike sullivan's jitney. This was not a sensational murder case. The jit- ney, of course, was on the street; but the man was not. The law cov- cred that point. The man was not dying on the street.
 What then could MT. Sullivan do? All this time had he sought aid. All this time had be been baked; but he was not defeated. He went in No aid there. Bankers are not 'in- terested in people who are dying except perhaps when it is a man with a bank account. He met a butcher the human carcass and that of steer. Other business men came the way of the former, and yet no help.
 All this time the man in the jitney was slowly but surely passing away. All this time MT. Sullivan was ap- preaching nearer to the depths of despair. The ordinary man would not see dog die without offering some help. And then. after much telephoning and rushing hither and yon, a doctor approached the scene of activities. The jitney had by this time attracted some attention. Feel ing the pulse of the man on the back seat of the vehicle, the doctor ordered the taxi to proceed forthwith to the hospital.
 "But," protested the crest-fallen driver. they might not take him in, unless doctor says it's all right
 Well, say it's all right" shouted the doctor. land mention my name."
 So off went MT. Sullivan with his charge. And he was successful. The Hospital admitted the patient. And here, of course, is the climax of the |
 
 inside the door of the hospital than ! he died. Had he lived after all this 1 he would have been a wonder.
 Now. we grant this man was a | derelict. He was such in more ways l than one. Deserted and abandoned | by his own folk. he was beyond the 1 pale of recognition by even our pub lie authorities, who might have ad- l vised MT. Sullivan what to do in the first place. This poor unfortunate in his dying hour was carted throughout the town, from pillar to post, without l whereon to rest his head.
 The man Is dead. No amount of argument will bring him back to life. This much, however, must be noted. He died without medical attention in a city of 60,ooo population, city that boasts of It's civilization, city that has a hospital to care for it's sick and wounded.
 It may be argued, on the other hand, that MT. Sullivan was the one who made the mistake in not going first to the hospital; but Sullivan was la boring under general delusion. He believed no one could be taken to the hospital unless sent there by proper medical authority
 When death comes knocking at the door he does not stop to ask for  pedigrees. He Is no respecter of persons. They all look alike to the Grim Reaper, In the eyes of High Heaven the rich and the poor, the young and the old, the powerful and l the humble, the exalted and the lowly 1 are all the same when that last bitter hour arrives. The best any can get is resting place within the bosom of earth A thousand years hence l and the skull of this man who died l friendless Thursday might be mis- l taken for that of the greatest man 1 We will not even know in the future 1 who, when dying, were able to pay 1 hospital bills.
 So it behooves a civilized people to l look somewhat beyond the pale of this mortal existence. And this, 1 whether they believe in a future life or not The dying should be cared for, whether rich or poor The dead we will not allow to remain above ground. It is but just and proper that we administer as best we can to those who are about to depart. At least we should not make pub- lie spectacle of their demise. Hos- pitality is a word with many charms.