The Fish in Little River on a Spree.
Something got into the fish in Little River yesterday morning, “and raised the mischief” with them. They came to the top of the water, hundreds of them, and acted as if they were in the last stages of a premature decline. “Want of breath,” such as boys say dogs die with, seemed to be the trouble. Never were the finny tribe so anxious to get out of water, and they poked their noses above the surface in the most beseeching way possible. The appeal was too strong to resist, and hundreds of men, women, and children, with sudden inventions for furnishing relief, such as baskets, coal-sifters, bags, etc., fixed at the end of long poles, lined the banks of the stream, and such luck in fishing has not been witnessed in this vicinity for years. What produced all this commotion among the inhabitants of the deep, is only conjectured. Some say a beer brewery, whose flavoring extracts (one of which is said to be cockle), after being relieved of their choicest qualities, are sent through a sewer into the stream, was the fountain head from which the trouble flowed. But beer drinkers look upon the idea as preposterous; they say it casts an unwarranted reflection upon a most respectable article of beverage. Perhaps so. Another claim is that somebody had thrown acid into the water; and another that decayed vegetable matter, occasioned by the long drought, has been liberally distributed in the river, from small streams which the late rains have swollen. We express no opinion about it, for, as the sensationist would say in speaking of something on a grander scale, “The whole matter is wrapped in the most profound mystery.” It is a sure thing, however, that the fish had a high old time, and were considerably puzzled themselves to know what was up. Wouldn’t advise anybody to invest in dressed suckers for a day or two, at least.
Since writing the above, Dr. Crabtre, coroner, informs us that he has secured several of the fish, and finds, by analyzing, that they were poisoned by sulphuric acid. The evidence of it is very strong in the fish that died before being taken from the water. Acid is used at Sharp’s factory, and is thrown in considerable quantities into the river. It will not be very healthy business to eat fish which have been thus “tampered with,” and, as we are informed that many were dressed yesterday and sent into market, we caution the public against buying “small fry,” unless they know where they were caught.
Water.
Foul wells, from an accumulation of carbonic acid gas, may be purified by a horse-shoe. But the horse-shoe, or other iron, or a brick, must be red hot. The vapor thus immediately absorbs the poison gas.
“Drink no water from streams or rivers on which, above, there are manufactories, etc.,” says a medical writer. But if such water is filtered through charcoal, it will be tolerably pure. Even stagnant water may be purified by pulverized charcoal. Dead rats, cats, and dogs are sometimes found in wells. The taste of the water soon reveals such offensive presence. Clean out the well, and sift in some charcoal and dry earth, and the water will be all right again.
Charcoal will purify, but it will also defile, as the following will show:—
“A small boy, not yet in his teens, had charge of a donkey laden with coals, on a recent day in spring; and in a Midland Lane, far away from any human habitation, the wicked ass threw off his load—a load too heavy for the youngster to replace. He sat down in despair, looking alternately at the sack and the cuddy—the latter (unfeeling brute!) calmly cropping the roadside grass. At last a horseman hove in sight, and gradually drew nearer and nearer.
