It was to learn something of these men at first hand that a reporter, dressed as one of them, and unshaved and of sorry appearance, joined their company for one never-to-be-forgotten night on the island. But the suf[Pg 57]fering and discomfort were more than made up for by the fact that, although these were rough men, in the privacy of the room in which we slept—except for some swearing—there was not spoken one word that any woman might not have heard. It is really a splendid thing to be able to say that.
These unfortunate men say they are much happier within the hospitable halls of Ellis Island than they ever could be at the municipal lodging institutions, which they criticize very unfavorably and with various reasons, among their objections being too many unnecessary questions asked, entirely too much work expected for the amount of assistance given, and many times no food at all when food is due; in other words, they pronounce organized charity, as exemplified in New York, a proved failure so far as it benefits those for whom it is supposed to be carried on.
“King of the Pasture” Chases Girl “Hikers.”
If it hadn’t been for a wild bull, which has the habit of seeing red, in a pasture they crossed, two Kansas schoolma’ams, Miss Edna R. Johnson and Miss Lillian Jaggar, who are hiking on foot overland from Vernon, Kan., to Pueblo, Col., would not be spending a week in Dodge City recuperating before continuing their journey.
The bull chased the two young school-teachers across a rolling pasture a half mile when they rolled to safety under a high barbed-wire fence.
Probably nothing would have occurred if the girls had not worn sweaters—red sweaters. But they did not think of angry bulls in mapping their tramp.
The bull charged up until his shoulders hit the wire, and then stopped. But his bellows urged the girls to renewed efforts, and they raced on. A farmer boy met them and offered them protection. They took it gladly.
They managed to get to Dodge City, but there they decided to remain until their shattered nerves were restored. Hereafter, the girls say, they will tramp along in the dusty road. No more pastures will entice them. They have been tramping for two weeks and had covered over three hundred miles without having ridden a foot of the way.
Youth Stops Runaway Team.
Fifteen-year-old Harold Dewey Howard, son of Mrs. Alice Howard, of Baker, Ore., checked a runaway team belonging to H. E. Jordan, seizing the animals by the bits and being dragged for nearly one hundred feet before he was shaken loose. Young Howard was slightly bruised, but he brought the horses to a standstill.