When
Seated At Table One Day With A Comrade, Who Had The Misfortune To
Swallow A Bone, I Quietly "Swallowed" The Remedy A Brazilian Told Us
Of.
He said their custom was for all to turn away their heads, while
the unfortunate one revolved his plate around three times to the
left, and presto!
The bone disappeared. My friend did not believe in
the cure; consequently, he suffered for several days.
I have said that dogs are numerous. These animals roam the streets by
day and night in packs and fight and tear at anyone or anything. Some
days before we arrived there were even more, but a few pounds of
poison had been scattered about the streets - which, by the way, are
the worst of any town I have ever entered - and the dog population of
the world decreased nine hundred. This is the Corumba version.
Perhaps the truth is, nine hundred feet, or, as we count, two hundred
and twenty-five dogs. In the interests of humanity, I hope the number
was nine hundred heads. Five carts then patrolled the streets and
carried away to the outskirts those dead dogs, which were there
burnt. I, the writer, find the latter part of the story hardest to
believe. Why should a freeborn Brazilian lift dogs out of the street?
In what better place could they be? They would fill up the holes and
ruts, and, in such intense heat, why do needless work?
Corumba is a typical Brazilian town.
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