THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET A HYGIENIC VIEW. 



In the Engineering ftews Dr. J. C. Bayles gives some excellent 

 advice in the form of a parody on The Old Oaken Bucket which 

 contains as much wisdom as wit. 



With what anguish of mind I remember my childhood, 



Recalled in the light of a knowledge since gained, 

 The malarious farm, the wet fungus-grown wildwood, 



The chills then contracted that since have remained; 

 The scum-covered duck-pond, the pig-sty close by it, 



The ditch where the sour-smelling house drainage fell, 

 The damp, shaded dwelling, the foul barnyard nigh it 



But worse than all else was that terrible well, 

 And the old oaken bucket, the mold-crusted bucket, 



The moss covered bucket that hung in the well. 



Just think of it ! Moss on the vessel that lifted 



The water I drank in the days called to mind; 

 Ere I knew what professors and scientists gifted 



In the waters of wells by analysis find; 

 The rotting wood fibre, the oxid of iron, 



The algae, the frog of unusual size, 

 The water, impure as the verses of Byron, 



Are things I remember with tears in my eyes. 



And to tell the sad truth tho I shudder to think it 



T considered that water uncommonly dear, 

 And often at noon when I went there to drink it, 



I enjoyed it as much as I now enjoy beer. 

 How ardent I seized it with hand? that were grimy, 



And qiuck to the mud covered bottom it fell, 

 Then reeking with nitrates and nitrites and slimy 



With matter organic it rose from the well. 



Oh, had I but realized in time to avoid them 



The dangers that lurked in ihat pestilent draft 

 I'd have tested for organic germs and destroyed them 



With potassic permanganate ere I had quaffed. 

 Or perchance I'd have boiled it, and afterward strained it 



Through filters of charcoal and gravel combined; 

 Or, after distilling, condensed and regained it 



In potable form, with its filth left behind. 



How little I knew of the enteric fever 



Which lurked in the water I ventured to drink, 

 Bit since I've become a devoted believer 



In the teachings of science, I shudder to think. 

 And now far removed from the scenes I'm describing, 



The story of warning to others I tell. 

 As memory reverts to my youthful imbibing 



And I gag at the thought of that horrible well, 

 And the old oaken bucket, the fungus-grown bucket 



In fact the slop bucket that hung in the well. 



As Dr. Bayles was formerly president of the New York City 

 health board he may be taken seriously when he sings: 



