The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Edgar Allan Poe [840]
one of the commonest precepts of common law. But the amount of general annoyances wrought by street-noises is incalculable; and this matter is worthy our very serious attention. It would be difficult to say, for example, how much of time, more valuable than money, is lost, in a large city, to no purpose, for the convenience of the fishwomen, the charcoal-men, and the monkey-exhibitors. How often does it happen that where two individuals are transacting business of vital importance, where fate hangs upon every syllable and upon every moment — how frequently does it occur that all conversation is delayed, for five or even ten minutes at a time, until these devil’s-triangles have got out of hearing, or until the leathern throats of the clam-and-cat-fish-venders have been hallooed, and shrieked, and yelled, into a temporary hoarseness and silence! The din of the vehicles, however, is even more thoroughly, and more intolerably a nuisance. Are we never to have done with these unmeaning round stones? — than which a more ingenious contrivance for driving men mad through sheer noise, was undoubtedly never invented. It is difficult to foresee what mode of street-pavement will come, finally, into vogue; but we should have some change, and that forthwith, or we must have new and more plentiful remedies for headache. The twelve-inch cubes of stone (square, with the upper surface roughened) make, perhaps, the most durable, and, in many respects, the best road; they are, however, expensive, and the noise they emit is objectionable, although in a much less degree than the round stones. Of the stereatomic wooden pavement, we hear nothing, now, at all. The people seem to have given it up altogether — but nothing better could be invented. We inserted the blocks, without preparation, and they failed. Therefore, we abandoned the experiment. Had they been Kyanized, the result would have been very different, and the wooden causeways would have been in extensive use throughout the country. In England, where wood is costly, it might not be preferred to stone, but here it must and, finally, will. The Kyanizing, or mineralizing, is a simple process, and cheap. Put a pound of corrosive sublimate (bi-chloride of Mercury) into sixteen gallons of water, and in this mixture immerse a piece of sound wood (either green or seasoned) for forty-eight hours (more or less as the wood is thicker or thinner). At the end of this time the wood cannot be rotted. It has assumed a metallic hardness and texture, is much increased in weight, and will last as long as granite. In the pavement with ordinary wood, although the road be arched, the soft, rotting material yields to heavy pressure, the whole arch sinks, and the fabric is soon destroyed — to say nothing of the speedy decay of the upper surface. The Kyanized wood, would not yield an inch, and therefore would never be displaced; and, never rotting, would last for ages as good as in the beginning. The present retail cost of the bi-chloride of Mercury is, I believe, about ninety cents per pound; but if an extensive demand for the article should arise (as would be the case were we to adopt the Kyanized road) the quicksilver mines of South America, now abandoned, would be again put into operation, and we might get the mineral for thirty or forty cents, if not for less. In point of cheapness, freedom from noise, ease of cleaning, pleasantness to the hoof, and, finally, in point of durability, there is no causeway equal to that of the Kyanized wood. But it will take us, as usual, fully ten years to make this discovery. In the meantime, the present experiments with the unprepared wood will answer very well for the profit of the street-menders, and for the amusement of common-councils — who will, perhaps, in the next instance, experiment with soft-soap, or sauer-kraut.
Some persons, falling from the roof of a house, and receiving severe injury, has been wrapped up, by somebody else, in a wet sheet, and not immediately dying in consequence, but getting well in spite of the sheets, somebody else, again, has written a letter