At the end of that time the
foreign foe was worsted, and, beating a retreat, endeavored to allay
the pangs of hunger by eating the grapes, and thus doing really
serious damage. The people then had to turn out: two hundred dogs
were killed, and the rest retreated, but of course only to return.
The _Djeridei Havadis_ concludes the account by mildly saying that
the Lamsakians are much disgusted by the eccentric conduct of the
Gallipoli magistrates, who ought of course to have sent their canine
emigrants to a desert island. But how thankful would Philadelphians be
if somebody, imitating the Gallipoli magistrates, would but deport two
thousand of the cats which make night-life hideous--to the New Jersey
shore, say!
* * * * *
The pie is almost an "institution" in America. A single New York
bakery claims that it produces nine hundred pies an hour from one of
its ten capacious ovens, and a total of fifty thousand pies daily,
the year round, forcing the supply occasionally up to sixty-five
thousand--probably on Fourths of July or other festal occasions. Let
the reader busy himself with imagining the total production of pies
by this and all other bakeries of the country during a twelve-month!
Nevertheless, these facilities would be inadequate to popular demand
were the majority of our countrymen of a stomach as unbounded as
that of the Dundee laborer whom a Scotch journal commemorates.
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