Flood

In Rochester, Ind., the Cole Brothers-Clyde Beatty Circus offered the use of its elephants to pull out mired automobiles.

In Louisville, in the lobby of the Brown Hotel, a bellboy caught a fish in his hands.

In Haverhill, Ohio, betting that he could swim 100 ft. in the swollen Ohio River, Everett Conley, 32, plunged in with his clothes on, drowned after 75 ft.

In Louisville, a restaurant advertised that it would prepare meals free for anyone who brought his own food.

In Paducah, Ky., the Ohio flood waters rose so high in front of the Public Library that Andrew Carnegie's statue was submerged to the chin.

In Manhattan arrived "General" Jacob Sechler Coxey from the flood area brimming with a plan to avert similar catastrophe: to straighten out the Mississippi River from Cairo, Ill. to the Gulf of Mexico, making it 600 miles long instead of the present 1,200. Crowed he: "Henry Ford is just wild about my plan."

In Murray, Ky., unreconstructed Southerners, offended by the term "refugees," welcomed thousands of unkempt flood sufferers as "visiting friends."

In Washington, the Bureau of Biological Survey reported that the Ohio valley floods had drowned, frozen or starved millions of raccoons, black bears, jumping mice, chipmunks, woodchucks, muskrats, opossums.

In Jonesboro, Ark., after the Charleston, Mo. fuse plug levee was dynamited, a freshly-painted four-room house settled on Farmer J. D. Griggs's land.

In Cortland, N. Y., seeing a newspaper photograph of a pair of cows stranded on a raft, Farmer Harold Griswold added to his flood relief contributions of potatoes and cabbage, one bale of hay.

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