YEN TIL A TION 125 



had set out from Liverpool, was overtaken by a great 

 storm. On this account, one hundred fifty steerage 

 passengers were compelled to go into a room below 

 the deck, and, to keep the water out, the cover to 

 the entrance was nailed down. This unwise pre- 

 caution also kept the air from getting in. "The 

 wretched passengers were now compelled to breathe 

 over and over again the same air. There occurred 

 a horrible scene of frenzy and violence, amid the groans 

 of the dying and the curses of the more robust. 

 Finally, one of the sufferers managed to force his way 

 on deck and alarm the mate, who was called to a fear- 

 ful spectacle. Seventy-two were already dead and 

 many were dying.' 7 All this occurred within six hours. 



While other similar examples might be given, such 

 fatal results of rebreathing the air breathed out are 

 infrequent, because it is not usual for a large number 

 of persons to be in such a small space. Besides, few 

 rooms are built so tight that, in our climate, more or 

 less exchange of air does not take place through 

 various openings. These incidents do, however, viv- 

 idly emphasize this fact: the air breathed out from 

 our lungs will become harmful to rebreathe unless the 

 room we are in is well supplied with pure air. 



It has been estimated that three persons in a tight 

 room fifteen feet long, twelve feet wide, and nine feet 

 high will vitiate the air in a little more than two hours. 

 If lights are burning, the air will be made unfit for 

 breathing much more quickly. Twelve persons in 



