SH THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



TYPHOID-FEVEK POISON. 



Bt ELY VAN DE WAEKER, M. D. 



ON the 4th of September, 1876, Otto Schmidt, an industrious and 

 thrifty German, reached his home after an absence of a week at 

 the Centennial Fair at Philadelphia. How and where he lodged, and 

 what he ate, during the five days he was at that city, we have no means 

 of knowing, for, bj the time he had exhausted the marvels of the ex- 

 hibition in his voluble German tongue, he had lost all idea of unity of 

 place, and was wandering mentally amid the busy wonders of Machinerv 

 Hall. The reason of his mental migration was a very simple matter. 

 Otto was sick. On the 8th he complained of headache, bodily prostra- 

 tion, and mental lassitude. The next day the distress in his head was 

 very severe, with pain in the back and limbs, and chilly sensations. The 

 day following there was fever with loss of appetite, and toward evening 

 he vomited the only food he had taken that day. On the 11th he thought 

 he was better; but on the 12th the fever, both morning and evening, was 

 marked. The next day he was seen by a physician, and the disease was 

 recognized as typhoid fever. And here, having given in brief the his- 

 tory of the misfortune that had befallen Otto, let me describe the little 

 segment of the world that held all that was dear to him in the way 

 of family and friends. In order to appreciate what follows, every point 

 and detail in this miniature survey must be understood and remem- 

 bered. 



No reader of history can follow the marching and countermarching 

 of hostile armies without his map ; and here also, upon a space of 

 ground one hundred and sixty-five by five hundred feet, we have the 

 invasion of an active, subtile, invisible foe after due declaration of war. 

 To the reader and myself this narrow limit of ground is historical. 

 Here was fought one of the most destructive battles ever recorded in 

 the annals of human misery — a campaign between this imponderable 

 invader and the vitality of a score of human beings. This conflict was 

 waged unheeded by the dense population around, which seemed bent 

 more on enjoying itself during the pleasant harvest weather than wit- 

 nessing an unequal fight. 



The ward of the city of Syracuse is bailt in its northern exten- 

 sion upon a series of parallel hills and valleys. These hills, with steep 

 eastern and western flanks, govern in a measure the direction of the 

 streets. There are three of these crests, with corresponding valleys. 

 The locality indicated in the cut is situated in the central depression. 

 Directly to the west it is commanded by the second ridge, the sides 

 partly built up, partly terraced, and the summit is crowned by Lookout 

 Park, a pleasure-ground of doubtful promise, its scanty verdure being 

 checked in its growth by the stony soil and the violent winds that 



