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<title>Life as a House - ByMark Andrus</title>
 LIFE AS A HOUSE WRITTEN BY MARK ANDRUS FADE IN:            A clock alarm SOUNDS over TITLES on BLACK.  We HEARsomeone            clearing congested lungs, coughing up phlegm; a slight crash            STOPS both the cough and the alarm.            EXT. GEORGE'S BEACH SHACK - MORNING            The cottage is a tiny,peeling paint rat-trap set dead center            on a small ocean front cul-de-sac, surrounded by four massive            post-modern mansions.            INT. GEORGE'S BEACH SHACK BEDROOM -MORNING            GEORGE NELSON, 42, squints and shivers as the spotty morning            light and ocean breeze enter through an open window.  Bold            waves crash against the cliffs outside the room.  Afive-foot            wide stack of hand hewed beams are piled pyramid style,            making movement in the room next to impossible.  George            stands shirtless in underwear and coughs again.  Hesteps            over a pile of tools and stands at the window, facing the            sea.  A happy sounding tune by Guster, "WHAT YOU WISH FOR,"            begins with the lyrics: 'Woke up today, to everythinggray            and all that I saw just keeps going on and on...'            EXT. WEBBER'S HOUSE - MORNING            The post-modern house is three-levels of concrete and glass.            INT. SAM WEBBER'SBEDROOM - MORNING            SAM is sixteen with spiky black hair, a nose ring, two            earrings and painted black nails.  The song continues with:            '...sweep all the pieces under the bed, close allthe            curtains and cover my head.'  Sam looks wasted as he climbs            out of bed and rummages through his dresser, retrieving an            empty bottle of prescription drugs; he tosses thebottle.  He            walks to a desk where a half-built model of a house sits            unfinished and squeezes glue into a plastic bag and sniffs            it.  Sam enters the closet and digs into a pile of dirty            clothes,pulling out the tie to a robe; he knots it around            the closet pole and then twists it once to form a noose.  He            slips his neck through the noose and lowers his body; though            we don't see exactly whathe's doing below his neck, it's            evident through his jerking arm that he's masturbating.            EXT. BECK'S OCEAN FRONT MANSION - MORNING            COLLEEN BECK, George's next-door neighbor, isa well            maintained blonde in her late thirties.  She walks out of the            angular concrete mansion, grabs the paper and walks back in.            INT. BECK'S KITCHEN - MORNING            This is aminimalist kitchen, with pored concrete walls and            stainless steel cabinets.             Colleen drops the paper on the table and walks to the sink to            wash her hands.  The SONG CONTINUES: '...If thisserenade is            not what you want, it's just how it is...'  Colleen appears            distracted for a moment.  She walks outside onto the terrace            with wet hands, then bolts back in, breezing throughthe            kitchen with purpose.            INT. ALYSSA BECK'S BATHROOM - MORNING            ALYSSA is sixteen and perfect with strawberry blonde hair and            white teeth; her head is partially out thebathroom window.             Colleen bursts in, eases Alyssa aside and with effort, sticks            her head out of the same high open window.                                COLLEEN                      This isridiculous!            We must not see exactly what they see, but out the window and            almost beyond view, a stream of urine arks out from George            Nelson's beach house bedroom, into the pacific oceansome            twenty-feet below.  The piss stops.  Colleen bangs her head            trying to get it back inside the house.            INT. WEBBER'S UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - MORNING            ROBIN WEBBER isGeorge's ex-wife, still beautiful at forty.             She herds two boys, RYAN (8) and ADAM (7), down the hall.                                ROBIN                      Run downstairs and give your dad ahug.                                RYAN                      Why?                                ROBIN                      He'll be gone for his birthday.                                ADAM                      Can we have aparty for him while he's                      gone?            Robin stops and KNOCKS on a bedroom door.                                ROBIN                      I hope you're showered and readyfor                      school!            A loud CRASH stops Ryan and Adam at the top of the stairs.            INT. SAM'S ROOM - MORNING            Robin rushes in and glances around the room for herson.                                ROBIN                      Sam?!            INT. SAM'S WEBBER'S CLOSET - MORNING            The closet pole and a long line of clothes have been felled            by Sam'sdangerous whack-off technique; he's on the floor            with the robe tie still around his neck and a pile of shirts            sprawled over him.  The song continues: '...come out come            out, wherever you are,would you do it all over right from            the start, and what you wish for won't come true, you aren't            surprised to love, are you?'             Robin stops at the door, trying to figure out why her sonis            sitting in a pile of his own clothes.  Ryan and Adam join            her, looking equally perplexed.            EXT. GEORGE NELSON'S CUL-DE-SAC - MORNING            George's dog, GUSTER, is doing hisbusiness on the lawn of a            modern day robber baron, DAVID DOKOS, who exits his house            with a briefcase.  He hops into his Mercedes and proceeds to            chase Guster straight across hiswell-manicured grass.             Guster easily escapes death and runs off.  George walks out            of his shack as David hops the curb, flips him off and drives            away.  George wavesgoodbye.                                GEORGE                      Stick it up your ass!  Have a nice day.                            (glancing around)                      Guster!            Guster runs to his side as Colleen rushes out ofher house.                                COLLEEN                      This has got to stop!                                GEORGE                      He escaped.  He's going backin.                                COLLEEN                      Does it give you some sort of perverse                      pleasure to expose your...penis in plain                      view of my sixteen year-olddaughter?                                GEORGE                      There are no windows facing                      my...exposure.                                COLLEEN                      George, this is the thirdtime.                                GEORGE                      The plumber's due out on Friday.                                COLLEEN                      You'll have to explain that tothe                      police.                                GEORGE                      You were the only neighbor I could                      tolerate.                                COLLEEN                      I did warnyou.                                GEORGE                      My life is a warning.  I just can't                      figure out for what.            Colleen shies away from George's stare; he finally turns and            walks towardthe house but stops short as he turns back.                                GEORGE (CONT'D)                      Colleen, how hard was it for you to get                      your head outside that window farenough                      to see my dick?            This stops Colleen for a moment; it was difficult.  George            walks back to the cottage and locks Guster in before stepping            into an old Ford truck and drivingoff.  Colleen watches him            drive off, then turns to her house and stares.            INT. WEBBER'S DINING ROOM - MORNING            PETER WEBBER, Robin's husband, is adistinguished,            intimidating man with silver hair and an expensive suit.             LOIS, the maid, serves French toast to Ryan and Adam as Robin            sipstea.                                ADAM                      Sam broke his closet.            Peter glances at Robin, who shrugs.                                ROBIN                      I don't have a clue anymore.  Iwish                      you'd talk to him.  He needs a man.                                PETER                      His father is a man.                                ROBIN                      A man he respects.            Samwalks into the room from the hall, outfitted in all black            with kick ass boots.                                SAM                      Thanks for talking about me behind my                      back...useful incourt.                                PETER                      Are you wearing eye shadow?            Adam, Ryan and Robin check out the eyeshadow.                                SAM                      No.                                PETER                      Take it off.            Sam flutters his eyelids in defiance of hisstepfather.                                PETER (CONT'D)                      Do it now!                                SAM                      If I walk out the door, who's gonna be                      here tonight for the followthrough?            Peter hesitates for just a second.                                SAM (CONT'D)                      Have a nice flight.            Sam's out the door with his eye shadowintact.                                RYAN                      Queer.                                ROBIN                      What did you say?                                RYAN                      Dad said itfirst.            Robin focuses on Peter, who simply shrugs.  Adam stands up,            walks over to his father and gives him a hug.                                ADAM                      I get chocolate cake for yourbirthday.                                PETER                      Are your hands clean?            Adam is quick to back away from his father and lick the            fingers of one hand.            INT. COMMUTER TRAIN -MORNING            George is resting his head against the glass window as he            stares out at the blighted landscape leading to downtown Los            Angeles.  A sudden pang tightens his face; he presseshis            hand against his stomach and closes his eyes.            EXT. LAGUNA BEACH HIGH SCHOOL - MORNING            Sam is alone at the back of the parking lot, sitting on the            hood of an old Saab,smoking as two boys, JOSH and MAREK,            both seventeen, park a Porsche and pull Alyssa Beck (George's            peeping neighbor) and another girl out of thebackseat.                                MAREK                      Dude, nice look.            Sam simply nods as Marek and the other girl laugh at his all            black garb, earrings and eye


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                                       HANCOCK                                      Written by                             Vincent Ngo & VinceGilligan                           FADE IN:          BLACK. It's everywhere. It swallows the screen. And so we stare          into a sea of BLACK.          NARRATOR (V.0.)          I saw asevered head once. Except for the,          paleness, it looked healthy, well-fed.          The end came abruptly you could tell          'cause the mouth froze in mid-sentence.          "Shh.  ," the curled lips attempted.Like          it started saying "shucks" or "Shirley"          or... "shit happens." Your eyes don't          forget things like that. Like you don't          forget the sound animals make when          they're humping.Primal.          Raw. They endure          in you forever because the senses have a          brain all their own and they recall long          after you've succumbed to the la-la of          forgetfulness.          (a pregnantbeat)          Sometimes when it's dark out,-so dark          it's black, I'll see HIM.          (BEAT)          And it starts all over again.          From this blackness, a streak of LIGHTNING splits the nightsky.          EXT. SKY - NIGHT           We are in the eye of a STORM, an angry mass of clo uds raging          o f a howling WIND. across the black sky..It brings RAIN and THUNDER an d the swirl          AnENTITY emerges from this moist darkness.          weather and advances into our scope of visibilityies through the          A FLASH, of lightning erupts and it illuminates the sky. We SEE          the approaching entity as ithovers before us.          It's a man.          It's a man, plus.          It's a SUPERHERO,          garbed in an elastic dark-grey outfit - a faded RED CAPE extends b          ehind him, thrashing against the wind andrain.          This Superhero (30). Unshaven.          Disheveled. Worn. A face          chiselled with mileage.                              2.          In the eyes, we can see his soul. Intense. Fierce. Anexposed          nerve, snagged in a fish hook.          He hangs in the air, tired, rain-soaked, pissed-off.          He stares down at the earth below and he beholds the saturated          visage of SHEEPSHEAD BAY, a seasideBrooklyn neighborhood.          And from the bowels of his very soul, this Superhero belches a          thunderous ROAR. He pivots in the air and dives toward land.          He slices through the downpour, arms extended,body erect,          engulfed in the dimensions of his cape.          The ground approaches, fast. He accelerates as if to embrace it.          Velocity sucks up all remaining space and there is IMPACT.          An EXPLOSION ashe rips through the street surface, penetrating          the asphalt - head first. Debris and concrete spew from the          ruptured orifice as he disappears inside.          There is an expulsion of subterranean pressure andit launches          nearby manhole LIDS from their spots - they bounce and CLANG          down the street like loose change.          The rain continues its onslaught.          INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT          Rainsloshes against a kitchen window. Where the sink is. Not          far from the kitchen table. Where the LONGFELLOW Family sits,          dinner before them.          HORUS (35) leans over his plate, eating his meal. Hereidles a          man of diminutive frame, bespectacled, placid - as harmless as          low fat milk.          He sits opposite MARY (30), frenetically appropriating food. A          gentle beauty. entwined in maternal angst sheis estrogen with an          attitude.          A meek little AARON (8), slouches between the folks - a BLACK          EYE tattoos the left of his face. Aaron stares at the damn          plate, finding no humor ineggplant.          MARY          The principal did'nothing. Like          schoolyard terrorism is no worse than          being tardy. What's the matter with          education? Back when, you could go to          schooland learn about Betsy Ross and...          mollusks and... not get stabbed on the          way home.                    4.          INT. SUBWAY TUNNEL - NIGHT          A subway TRAM idles by apassenger ramp. STEAM hisses from its          side and plumes into a wall of white mist.          And from this cloud of angry vapors, a figure appears. He          surfaces from the dark subway tunnel, a cool nonchalancein his          gait.          It is the Superhero, his identity safely concealed under the          collar of a tattered TRENCHCOAT. He traverses the loading deck,          PASSENGERS boarding and disembarking aroundhim.          He wades through them - to a deserted section of the subway. He          strolls over to a CIGARETTE MACHINE, up against the grafetti-          raped subway wall.          On the wall, a line of profanity declaresthat...          "YOUR MOTHER TAKES IT UP THE ASS."          He surveys the machine. His right arm appears from the coat          pocket. Fingers merge into a tight fist. And casually, he rips          into the metalvendor like it was Jello.          His fist withdraws a handful of bills, coins. He pockets the          loot. He reaches back in and withdraws a carton of LUCKY STRIKE.          Deposits it under his coat.          And with that, heheads for the stairs - to the flooded streets          above.          At the ramp, and on cue, the subway tram closes its doors.          Trembles. Moves. Steams into the deep dark tunnel. White SMOKE          mushroomsfrom its tail. It lingers in the air as we...          INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT          see STEAM, rising from a faucet of running HOT water.          It rises from a sink of soiled dishes - where Marydeposits          another set of pots. She's clearing the table.          Down a dark hallway, a streak of light escapes from an open          door. Inside and on the bed, the frail posture of Horus changes          out of hisclothes.          INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT          Horus disrobes down to his t-shirt and briefs. He stands before          the closet mirror, scrutinizing the emaciated, sand-kicked-in-          the-facebody.          5.           Horns strikes           a He-man pose, his           biceps in the           wind.           He removes the Police apparel,           plastic. Proceeds to put it on.             INT.RED          EYE MOTEL - NIGHT          FISH          How the fuck can I help you sir?           SUPERHERO          A room.                         6.          Hisblood-shot eyes mean it.          Fish turns to the back wall. Grabs a random KEY from a nail.          FISH          Top floor, 7F. Fifteen a pop, up front.          (re: the check-in sheet)          And your John Hancockmakes it sweet.          The Superhero scrutinizes the CHECK-IN sheet. Scribbles          HANCOCK          on the dotted line.          Fish hands over the key. Then, pulls it back fromHancock's          grab.          FISH (CONT'D)          I don't take messages, I don't do favors,          and I don't know you from Jack. You want          sheets, they're extra. Towel's extra.          Plunger'sextra.          HANCOCK          I need quiet. Is it quiet?          FISH          Quiet? Hey pal, we look like a public          library to you? The girls work. Some of          them scream, some of themmoan...          (SMILES)          and some of them just kinda lay there          cold. You want quiet, I got cotton balls          you can stick in your ear. They're extra.          Hancock eyes Fish, mentally dissectingthe vermin with his bare          hands. He withdraws from his coat the WAD of loot. Pushes it          under the window.          And while Fish collects, he leans into the window and emits a          deep GROWL. Fishrecoils. The bills fly.          Hancock takes the key. Exchanges it with a metal ORB - the          strangulated remains of the bell. It rolls out of his palm and          CLINKS off the counter.          Hancock sidles off. Fish -the cat's got his tongue.          INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT          Horus, in full uniform - dark blue pants, shirt.                                                  7.          He dipsinto a dresser, pulls out a thick black leather belt -          complete with holster.          Horus returns to the dresser for one final item - It's obscured          by his arm but we feel it to be some heavy chunk ofmetal.          He confronts the mirror, twirls this piece, holsters it. And we          SEE it to be a FLASHLIGHT.          A shoulder patch reads...          U-RENT SECURITY CO.          Their motto: "TO OBSERVEAND RECORD"          Horus tucks a hat under his arms, ready to move.          INT. AARON'S ROOM - NIGHT          A jar of MARBLES rests upon a window ledge. Outside, the story          is rain.          On abed, sprawled on his back, Aaron gazes up at the empty          ceiling - the black eye squats prominently on his face.          Aaron brings his hand before his eyes. Looks at it. Studies it.          Slowly, his fingersconverge into a tight FIST - a boy's          interpretation of a man's weapon.          A gentle KNOCK disperses the knuckles. Horus peers in.          HORUS          How's theeye?          AARON          Black.          Horus enters.          Stands awkwardly before his son.          HORUS          It'll be gone in a week. Mom'11 touch it          up with some make-up and you won'teven          know it's there.          AARON          Yeah I will. And I don't want any girly          make-up on my face.          Horus deposits himself on the bed. Hunches over-h13knees.                                                  B.          HORUS          (almost apologetically)          There'll always be people around          who'll... exert force overthose of us          who just want to live in peace.          Aaron listens, observing his father's efforts.          HORUS (CONT' D)          (pain in every word)          The thing to do is... to avoid them.          They'reno-wins. Can't-wins. You hold the          anger... and move on. You hold the anger.          (turns to Aaron)          I tell you because I can't take it,          seeing you hurt. You're part ofme.          (BEAT)          I've felt what you're feeling now. And if          you've got any of me in you, you're gonna          feel what I felt-when you go up against          one of 'em. Turn away... that's whatyou          do... the other cheek. You do that for          me. No, you're not the coward. Not you.          No. I'll be the coward, all right? 'Cause          I don't want to see you hurt. I love you.          I ask you to do that forme... your old          man.          And while he utters these words, Mary watches from the dark          hallway - moved b y his affection.          She oversees a father-son embrace.          HORUS(CONT'D)          I'm late for work. Get some sleep.          Tomorrow always feels better...          AARON          .after a good night sleep.          The light FLICKS off and the man's silhouette form exitsthe          room.          INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT          Horus backs his way out. Shuts the door. Mary's hand greets him          from behind.          It startles the man. He.tries toregroup.          HORUS          Mary.                                                  9.           Mary inches closer - passion oozes from every pore. She nestles          up


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of Z. Marcas, by Honore de BalzacThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use it under theterms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: Z. MarcasAuthor: Honore de BalzacTranslator: Clara Bell and OthersRelease Date: August, 1999  [Etext#1841]Posting Date: March 3, 2010Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK Z. MARCAS ***Produced by John Bickers, and DagnyZ. MARCASBy Honore De BalzacTranslated by Clara Belland Others                             DEDICATION  To His Highness Count William of Wurtemberg, as a token of the  Author's respectful gratitude.                                                      DE BALZAC.Z. MARCASI never sawanybody, not even among the most remarkable men of theday, whose appearance was so striking as this man's; the study of hiscountenance at first gave me a feeling of great melancholy, and at lastproduced analmost painful impression.There was a certain harmony between the man and his name. The Z.preceding Marcas, which was seen on the addresses of his letters, andwhich he never omitted from his signature, as thelast letter of thealphabet, suggested some mysterious fatality.MARCAS! say this two-syllabled name again and again; do you not feel asif it had some sinister meaning? Does it not seem to you that its ownermust bedoomed to martyrdom? Though foreign, savage, the name has aright to be handed down to posterity; it is well constructed, easilypronounced, and has the brevity that beseems a famous name. Is it notpleasant as wellas odd? But does it not sound unfinished?I will not take it upon myself to assert that names have no influence onthe destiny of men. There is a certain secret and inexplicable concordor a visible discord between theevents of a man's life and his namewhich is truly surprising; often some remote but very real correlationis revealed. Our globe is round; everything is linked to everythingelse. Some day perhaps we shall revert to theoccult sciences.Do you not discern in that letter Z an adverse influence? Does it notprefigure the wayward and fantastic progress of a storm-tossed life?What wind blew on that letter, which, whatever language we find itin,begins scarcely fifty words? Marcas' name was Zephirin; Saint Zephirinis highly venerated in Brittany, and Marcas was a Breton.Study the name once more: Z Marcas! The man's whole life lies in thisfantasticjuxtaposition of seven letters; seven! the most significant ofall the cabalistic numbers. And he died at five-and-thirty, so his lifeextended over seven lustres.Marcas! Does it not hint of some precious object that is brokenwith afall, with or without a crash?I had finished studying the law in Paris in 1836. I lived at that timein the Rue Corneille in a house where none but students came to lodge,one of those large houses where there is awinding staircase quite atthe back lighted below from the street, higher up by borrowedlights, and at the top by a skylight. There were forty furnishedrooms--furnished as students' rooms are! What does youth demandmorethan was here supplied? A bed, a few chairs, a chest of drawers, alooking-glass, and a table. As soon as the sky is blue the student openshis window.But in this street there are no fair neighbors to flirt with. Infrontis the Odeon, long since closed, presenting a wall that is beginning togo black, its tiny gallery windows and its vast expanse of slate roof.I was not rich enough to have a good room; I was not even rich enoughtohave a room to myself. Juste and I shared a double-bedded room on thefifth floor.On our side of the landing there were but two rooms--ours and a smallerone, occupied by Z. Marcas, our neighbor. For six months Justeand Iremained in perfect ignorance of the fact. The old woman who managed thehouse had indeed told us that the room was inhabited, but she had addedthat we should not be disturbed, that the occupant wasexceedinglyquiet. In fact, for those six months, we never met our fellow-lodger,and we never heard a sound in his room, in spite of the thinness of thepartition that divided us--one of those walls of lath and plasterwhichare common in Paris houses.Our room, a little over seven feet high, was hung with a vile cheappaper sprigged with blue. The floor was painted, and knew nothing ofthe polish given by the _frotteur's_ brush. Byour beds there was onlya scrap of thin carpet. The chimney opened immediately to the roof, andsmoked so abominably that we were obliged to provide a stove at our ownexpense. Our beds were mere painted woodencribs like those in schools;on the chimney shelf there were but two brass candlesticks, with orwithout tallow candles in them, and our two pipes with some tobacco in apouch or strewn abroad, also the little piles ofcigar-ash left there byour visitors or ourselves.A pair of calico curtains hung from the brass window rods, and on eachside of the window was a small bookcase in cherry-wood, such as everyone knows who has staredinto the shop windows of the Quartier Latin,and in which we kept the few books necessary for our studies.The ink in the inkstand was always in the state of lava congealed in thecrater of a volcano. May not any inkstandnowadays become a Vesuvius?The pens, all twisted, served to clean the stems of our pipes; and, inopposition to all the laws of credit, paper was even scarcer than coin.How can young men be expected to stay at homein such furnishedlodgings? The students studied in the cafes, the theatre, the Luxembourggardens, in _grisettes'_ rooms, even in the law schools--anywhere ratherthan in their horrible rooms--horrible for purposes ofstudy, delightfulas soon as they were used for gossiping and smoking in. Put a cloth onthe table, and the impromptu dinner sent in from the best eating-housein the neighborhood--places for four--two of them inpetticoats--showa lithograph of this "Interior" to the veriest bigot, and she will bebound to smile.We thought only of amusing ourselves. The reason for our dissipation layin the most serious facts of the politics of thetime. Juste and I couldnot see any room for us in the two professions our parents wished us totake up. There are a hundred doctors, a hundred lawyers, for one that iswanted. The crowd is choking these two pathswhich are supposed to leadto fortune, but which are merely two arenas; men kill each other there,fighting, not indeed with swords or fire-arms, but with intrigue andcalumny, with tremendous toil, campaigns in thesphere of the intellectas murderous as those in Italy were to the soldiers of the Republic. Inthese days, when everything is an intellectual competition, a man mustbe able to sit forty-eight hours on end in his chairbefore a table, asa General could remain for two days on horseback and in his saddle.The throng of aspirants has necessitated a division of the Faculty ofMedicine into categories. There is the physician who writes andthephysician who practises, the political physician, and the physicianmilitant--four different ways of being a physician, four classes alreadyfilled up. As to the fifth class, that of physicians who sell remedies,there is sucha competition that they fight each other with disgustingadvertisements on the walls of Paris.In all the law courts there are almost as many lawyers as there arecases. The pleader is thrown back on journalism, onpolitics, onliterature. In fact, the State, besieged for the smallest appointmentsunder the law, has ended by requiring that the applicants shouldhave some little fortune. The pear-shaped head of the grocer's sonisselected in preference to the square skull of a man of talent who hasnot a sou. Work as he will, with all his energy, a young man, startingfrom zero, may at the end of ten years find himself below the pointhe set outfrom. In these days, talent must have the good luck whichsecures success to the most incapable; nay, more, if it scorns the basecompromises which insure advancement to crawling mediocrity, it willnever get on.If wethoroughly knew our time, we also knew ourselves, and we preferredthe indolence of dreamers to aimless stir, easy-going pleasure to theuseless toil which would have exhausted our courage and worn out theedge ofour intelligence. We had analyzed social life while smoking,laughing, and loafing. But, though elaborated by such means as these,our reflections were none the less judicious and profound.While we were fully consciousof the slavery to which youth iscondemned, we were amazed at the brutal indifference of the authoritiesto everything connected with intellect, thought, and poetry. How oftenhave Juste and I exchanged glances whenreading the papers as we studiedpolitical events, or the debates in the Chamber, and discussed theproceedings of a Court whose wilful ignorance could find no parallel butin the platitude of the courtiers, the mediocrityof the men formingthe hedge round the newly-restored throne, all alike devoid of talent orbreadth of view, of distinction or learning, of influence or dignity!Could there be a higher tribute to the Court of Charles X. thanthepresent Court, if Court it may be called? What a hatred of the countrymay be seen in the naturalization of vulgar foreigners, devoid oftalent, who are enthroned in the Chamber of Peers! What a perversion ofjustice!What an insult to the distinguished youth, the ambitions nativeto the soil of France! We looked upon these things as upon a spectacle,and groaned over them, without taking upon ourselves to act.Juste, whom no oneever sought, and who never sought any one, was, atfive-and-twenty, a great politician, a man with a wonderful aptitude forapprehending the correlation between remote history and the facts of thepresent and of thefuture. In 1831, he told me exactly what would anddid happen--the murders, the conspiracies, the ascendency of the Jews,the difficulty of doing anything in France, the scarcity of talent inthe higher circles, and theabundance of intellect in the lowest ranks,where the finest courage is smothered under cigar ashes.What was to become of him? His parents wished him to be a doctor. But ifhe were a doctor, must he not wait twentyyears for a practice? Youknow what he did? No? Well, he is a doctor; but he left France, he is inAsia. At this moment he is perhaps sinking under fatigue in a desert, ordying of the lashes of a barbarous horde--orperhaps he is some Indianprince's prime minister.Action is my vocation. Leaving a civil college at the age of twenty, theonly way for me to enter the army was by enlisting as a common soldier;so, weary of the dismaloutlook that lay before a lawyer, I acquired theknowledge needed for a sailor. I imitate Juste, and keep out of France,where men waste, in the struggle to make way, the energy needed for thenoblest works. Follow myexample, friends; I am going where a man steershis destiny as he pleases.These great resolutions were formed in the little room in thelodging-house in the Rue Corneille, in spite of our haunting the BalMusard, flirtingwith girls of the town, and leading a careless andapparently reckless life. Our plans and arguments long floated in theair.Marcas, our neighbor, was in some degree the guide who led us to themargin of the precipice orthe torrent, who made us sound it, and showedus beforehand what our fate would be if we let ourselves fall into it.It was he who put us on our guard against the time-bargains a manmakes with poverty under thesanction of hope, by accepting precarioussituations whence he fights the battle, carried along by the devioustide of Paris--that great harlot who takes you up or leaves youstranded, smiles or turns her back on you withequal readiness, wearsout the strongest will in vexatious waiting, and makes misfortune waiton chance.At our first meeting, Marcas, as it were, dazzled us. On our return fromthe schools, a little before the dinner-hour,we were accustomed to goup to our room and remain there a while, either waiting for the other,to learn whether there were any change in our plans for the evening. Oneday, at four o'clock, Juste met Marcas on thestairs, and I saw him inthe street. It was in the month of November, and Marcas had no cloak;he wore shoes with heavy soles, corduroy trousers, and a bluedouble-breasted coat buttoned to the throat, which gave amilitary airto his broad chest, all the more so because he wore a black stock. Thecostume was not in itself extraordinary, but it agreed well with theman's mien and countenance.My first impression on seeing him wasneither surprise, nor distress,nor interest, nor pity, but curiosity mingled with all these feelings.He walked slowly, with a step that betrayed deep melancholy, his headforward with a stoop, but not bent like that of aconscience-strickenman. That head, large and powerful, which might contain the treasuresnecessary for a man of the highest ambition, looked as if it were loadedwith thought; it was weighted with grief of mind, butthere was no touchof remorse in his expression. As to his face, it may be summed up ina word. A common superstition has it that every human countenanceresembles some animal. The animal for Marcas was the lion.His hair waslike a mane, his nose was sort and flat; broad and dented at the tiplike a lion's; his brow, like a lion's, was strongly marked with adeep median furrow, dividing two powerful bosses. His high,hairycheek-bones, all the more prominent because his cheeks were so thin,his enormous mouth and hollow jaws, were accentuated by lines of tawnyshadows. This almost terrible countenance seemed illuminated bytwolamps--two eyes, black indeed, but infinitely sweet, calm and deep, fullof thought. If I may say so, those eyes had a humiliated expression.Marcas was afraid of looking directly at others, not for himself, butfor thoseon whom his fascinating gaze might rest; he had a power, andhe shunned using it; he would spare those he met, and he feared notice.This was not from modesty, but from resignation founded on reason, whichhaddemonstrated the immediate inutility of his gifts, the impossibilityof entering and living in the sphere for which he was fitted. Those eyescould at times flash lightnings. From those lips a voice of thunder mustsurelyproceed; it was a mouth like Mirabeau's."I have seen such a grand fellow in the street," said I to Juste oncoming in."It must be our neighbor," replied Juste, who described, in fact, theman I had just met. "A man wholives like a wood-louse would be sure tolook like that," he added."What dejection and what dignity!""One is the consequence of the other.""What ruined hopes! What schemes and failures!""Seven leagues of ruins!Obelisks--palaces--towers!--The ruins ofPalmyra in the desert!" said Juste, laughing.So we called him the Ruins of Palmyra.As we went out to dine at the wretched eating-house in the Rue de laHarpe to which wesubscribed, we asked the name of Number 37, and thenheard the weird name Z. Marcas. Like boys, as we were, we repeatedit more than a hundred times with all sorts of comments, absurd ormelancholy, and thename lent itself to a jest. Juste would fire off theZ like a rocket rising, _z-z-z-z-zed_; and after pronouncing the firstsyllable of the name with great importance, depicted a fall by the dullbrevity of the second."Now, howand where does the man live?"From this query, to the innocent espionage of curiosity there was nopause but that required for carrying out our plan. Instead of loiteringabout the streets, we both came in, each armedwith a novel. We readwith our ears open. And in the perfect silence of our attic rooms, weheard the even, dull sound of a sleeping man breathing."He is asleep," said I to Juste, noticing this fact."At seven o'clock!"replied the Doctor.This was the name by which I called Juste, and he called me the Keeperof the Seals."A man must be wretched indeed to sleep as much as our neighbor!" criedI, jumping on to the chest of drawerswith a knife in my hand, to whicha corkscrew was attached.I made a round hole at the top of the partition, about as big as afive-sou piece. I had forgotten that there would be no light in theroom, and on putting my eyeto the hole, I saw only darkness. At aboutone in the morning, when we had finished our books and were about toundress, we heard a noise in our neighbor's room. He got up, struck amatch, and lighted his dip. I got onto the drawers again, and I thensaw Marcas seated at his table and copying law-papers.His room was about half the size of ours; the bed stood in a recess bythe door, for the passage ended there, and its breadth wasadded tohis garret; but the ground on which the house was built was evidentlyirregular, for the party-wall formed an obtuse angle, and the room wasnot square. There was no fireplace, only a small earthenwarestove,white blotched with green, of which the pipe went up through the roof.The window, in the skew side of the room, had shabby red curtains. Thefurniture consisted of an armchair, a table, a chair, and awretchedbed-table. A cupboard in the wall held his clothes. The wall-paper washorrible; evidently only a servant had ever been lodged there beforeMarcas."What is to be seen?" asked the Doctor as I got down."Look foryourself," said I.At nine next morning, Marcas was in bed. He had breakfasted off asaveloy; we saw on a plate, with some crumbs of bread, the remains ofthat too familiar delicacy. He was asleep; he did not wake tilleleven.He then set to work again on the copy he had begun the night before,which was lying on the table.On going downstairs we asked the price of that room, and were toldfifteen francs a month.In the course of a fewdays, we were fully informed as to the mode oflife of Z. Marcas. He did copying, at so much a sheet no doubt, for alaw-writer who lived in the courtyard of the Sainte-Chapelle. He workedhalf the night; after sleepingfrom six till ten, he began again andwrote till three. Then he went out to take the copy home before dinner,which he ate at Mizerai's in the Rue Michel-le-Comte, at a cost of ninesous, and came in to bed at six o'clock. Itbecame known to us thatMarcas did not utter fifteen sentences in a month; he never talked toanybody, nor said a word to himself in his dreadful garret."The Ruins of Palmyra are terribly silent!" said Juste.Thistaciturnity in a man whose appearance was so imposing was strangelysignificant. Sometimes when we met him, we exchanged glances full ofmeaning on both sides, but they never led to any advances. Insensiblythisman became the object of our secret admiration, though we knew noreason for it. Did it lie in his secretly simple habits, his monasticregularity, his hermit-like frugality, his idiotically mechanical labor,allowing his mindto remain neuter or to work on his own lines, seemingto us to hint at an expectation of some stroke of good luck, or at someforegone conclusion as to his life?After wandering for a long time among the Ruins of Palmyra,we forgotthem--we were young! Then came the Carnival, the Paris Carnival,which, henceforth, will eclipse the old Carnival of Venice, unless someill-advised Prefect of Police is antagonistic.Gambling ought to be allowedduring the Carnival; but the stupidmoralists who have had gambling suppressed are inert financiers, andthis indispensable evil will be re-established among us when it isproved that France leaves millions at the Germantables.This splendid Carnival brought us to utter penury, as it does everystudent. We got rid of every object of luxury; we sold our second coats,our second boots, our second waistcoats--everything of which we hadaduplicate, except our friend. We ate bread and cold sausages; we lookedwhere we walked; we had set to work in earnest. We owed two months'rent, and were sure of having a bill from the porter for sixty oreightyitems each, and amounting to forty or fifty francs. We made no noise,and did not laugh as we crossed the little hall at the bottom of thestairs; we commonly took it at a flying leap from the lowest step intothestreet. On the day when we first found ourselves bereft of tobaccofor our pipes, it struck us that for some days we had been eating breadwithout any kind of butter.Great was our distress."No tobacco!" said theDoctor."No cloak!" said the Keeper of the Seals."Ah, you rascals, you would dress as the postillion de Longjumeau, youwould appear as Debardeurs, sup in the morning, and breakfast at nightat Very's--sometimes evenat the _Rocher de Cancale_.--Dry bread foryou, my boys! Why," said I, in a big bass voice, "you deserve to sleepunder the bed, you are not worthy to lie in it--""Yes, yes; but, Keeper of the Seals, there is no moretobacco!" saidJuste."It is high time to write home, to our aunts, our mothers, and oursisters, to tell them we have no underlinen left, that the wear andtear of Paris would ruin garments of wire. Then we will solve anelegantchemical problem by transmuting linen into silver.""But we must live till we get the answer.""Well, I will go and bring out a loan among such of our friends as maystill have some capital to invest.""And how much


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of House Rats and Mice, by David E. LantzThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use itunder the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.netTitle: House Rats and Mice       Farmers' Bulletin 896Author: David E. LantzRelease Date: March 10, 2011[EBook #35542]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOUSE RATS AND MICE ***Produced by Erica Pfister-Altschul, Larry B. Harrison andthe Online Distributed Proofreading Teamathttp://www.pgdp.net  [Transcriber's Note:  The following suspected errors have been changed in this text:    Page 6: "highdays" changed to "highways"    Page 11: "abbatoirs" changed to "abattoirs"    Page 11:Added missing "." to "FIG. 5."]    Page 14: Added missing "." to "FIG. 10."]HOUSE RATS AND MICEDAVID E. LANTZAssistant Biologist[Illustration]FARMERS' BULLETIN 896UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OFAGRICULTURE       *       *       *       *       *Contribution from the Bureau of Biological SurveyE. W. NELSON, Chief    Washington, D. C.                                      October, 1917    Show this bulletin to a neighbor.Additional copies may be obtained    free from the Division of Publications, United States Department of    Agriculture                            WASHINGTON: GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE: 1917The rat is the worstanimal pest in the world.From its home among filth it visits dwellings and storerooms to polluteand destroy human food.It carries bubonic plague and many other diseases fatal to man and hasbeen responsible for moreuntimely deaths among human beings than allthe wars of history.In the United States rats and mice each year destroy crops and otherproperty valued at over $200,000,000.This destruction is equivalent to the grossearnings of an army of over200,000 men.On many a farm, if the grain eaten and wasted by rats and mice could besold, the proceeds would more than pay all the farmer's taxes.The common brown rat breeds 6 to 10times a year and produces an averageof 10 young at a litter. Young females breed when only three or fourmonths old.At this rate a pair of rats, breeding uninterruptedly and withoutdeaths, would at the end of threeyears (18 generations) be increased to359,709,482 individuals.For centuries the world has been fighting rats without organization andat the same time has been feeding them and building for them fortressesforconcealment. If we are to fight them on equal terms we must denythem food and hiding places. We must organize and unite to ridcommunities of these pests. The time to begin is now.HOUSE RATS ANDMICE.CONTENTS.                                                   Page.    Destructive habits                                 3    Protection of food and other stores                5      Rat-proof building                               5      Keeping foodfrom rats and mice                  9    Destroying rats and mice                          11      Traps                                           11      Poisons                                         15      Domesticanimals                                18      Fumigation                                      18      Rat viruses                                     19      Natural enemies                                 20    Organized efforts to destroyrats                 20      Community efforts                               21      State and national aid                          21    Important repressive measures                     23DESTRUCTIVE HABITS OF HOUSE RATS ANDMICE.Losses from depredations of house rats amount to many millions ofdollars yearly--to more, in fact, than those from all other injuriousmammals combined. The common house mouse[1] and the brown rat[2](fig.1), too familiar to need description, are pests in nearly all parts ofthe country; while two other kinds of house rats, known as the blackrat[3] and the roof rat,[4] are found within our borders.[Illustration: FIG.1.--Brown rat.]Of these four introduced species--for none is native to America--thebrown rat is the most destructive, and, except the mouse, the mostnumerous and most widely distributed. Brought to America justbeforethe Revolution, it has supplanted and nearly exterminated its lessrobust relative the black rat; and in spite of the constant warfare ofman has extended its range and steadily increased in numbers. Itsdominanceis due to its great fecundity and its ability to adapt itselfto all sorts of surroundings. It breeds (in the middle part of theUnited States) six or more times a year and produces from 6 to 20 young(average 10) in a litter.Females breed when only 3 or 4 months old.Thus a pair, breeding uninterruptedly and without deaths, could in threeyears (18 generations) produce a posterity of 359,709,480 individuals.Mice and the black and roofrats produce smaller litters, but the periodof gestation, about 21 days, and the number of litters are the same forall.Rats and mice are practically omnivorous, feeding upon all kinds ofanimal and vegetable matter. Thebrown rat makes its home in the openfield, the hedge row, and the river bank, as well as in stone walls,piers, and all kinds of buildings. It destroys grains when newlyplanted, while growing, and in the shock, stack,mow, crib, granary,mill, elevator, or ship's hold, and also in the bin and feed trough. Itinvades store and warehouse and destroys furs, laces, silks, carpets,leather goods, and groceries. It attacks fruits, vegetables, andmeatsin the markets, and destroys by pollution ten times as much as itactually eats. It destroys eggs and young poultry, and eats the eggs andyoung of song and game birds. It carries disease germs from housetohouse and bubonic plague from city to city. It causes disastrousconflagrations; floods houses by gnawing lead water pipes; ruinsartificial ponds and embankments by burrowing; and damages foundations,floors,doors, and furnishings of dwellings.Unlike the brown rat the black rat rarely migrates to the fields. It hasdisappeared from most parts of the Northern States, but is occasionallyfound in remote villages or farms. At ourseaports it frequently arriveson ships from abroad, but seldom becomes very numerous. The roof rat iscommon in many parts of the South, where it is a persistent pest in caneand rice fields. It maintains itself againstthe brown rat partlybecause of its habit of living in trees. The common house mouse by nomeans confines its activities to the inside of buildings, but is oftenfound in open fields, where its depredations in shock andstack are wellknown.Not only are mice and rats, especially the brown rat, a cause ofdestruction and damage to property, but they are also a constant menaceto the health of man. It has been proved that they are thechief meansof perpetuating and transmitting bubonic plague and that they playimportant rÃ´les in conveying other diseases to human beings. They areparasites, without redeeming characteristics, and shouldeverywhere berouted and destroyed.PROTECTION OF FOOD AND OTHER STORES FROM RATS AND MICE.Past attempts to exterminate rats and mice have failed, not so muchbecause of lack of effective means asbecause of the neglect ofnecessary precautions and the absence of concerted endeavors. We haverendered our work abortive by continuing to provide subsistence andhiding places for the animals. If these advantagesare denied,persistent and general use of the usual methods of destruction willprove far more successful.RAT-PROOF BUILDING.First in importance, as a measure of rat repression, is the exclusion ofthe animals fromplaces where they find food and safe retreats forrearing their young.The best way to keep rats from buildings, whether in city or in country,is to use cement in construction. As the advantages of this material arecomingto be generally understood, its use is rapidly extending to allkinds of buildings. The processes of mixing and laying this materialrequire little skill or special knowledge, and workmen of ordinaryintelligence cansuccessfully follow the plain directions contained inhandbooks of cement construction.[5]Many modern public buildings are so constructed that rats can find nolodgment in the walls or foundations, and yet in a fewyears, throughnegligence, such buildings often become infested with the pests.Sometimes drain pipes are left uncovered for hours at a time. Oftenouter doors, especially those opening on alleys, are left ajar. Acommonmistake is failure to screen basement windows which must be opened forventilation. However the intruders are admitted, when once inside theyintrench themselves behind furniture or stores, and are difficulttodislodge. The addition of inner doors to vestibules is an importantprecaution against rats. The lower edge of outer doors to publicbuildings, especially markets, should be reinforced with light metalplates to prevent theanimals from gnawing through. Any opening leftaround water, steam, or gas pipes, where they go through walls, shouldbe closed carefully with concrete to the full depth of the wall.=Dwellings.=--In constructingdwelling houses the additional cost ofmaking the foundations rat-proof is slight compared with the advantages.The cellar walls should have concrete footings, and the walls themselvesshould be laid in cement mortar.The cellar floor should be of mediumrather than lean concrete. Even old cellars may be made rat-proof atcomparatively small expense. Rat holes may be permanently closed with amixture of cement, sand, and brokenglass, or sharp bits of crockery orstone.On a foundation like the one described above, the walls of a woodendwelling also may be made rat-proof. The space between the sheathing andlath, to the height of about a foot,should be filled with concrete.Rats can not then gain access to the walls, and can enter the dwellingonly through doors or windows. Screening all basement and cellar windowswith wire netting is a most necessaryprecaution.=Old buildings in cities.=--Aside from old dwellings, the chief refugesfor rats in cities are sewers, wharves, stables, and outbuildings.Modern sewers are used by the animals merely as highways and notasabodes, but old-fashioned brick sewers often afford nesting crannies.[Illustration: FIG. 2.--Rat-proofing a frame dwelling by concrete sidewall (United States Public Health Service, New Orleans, La., 1914).]Wharves,stables, and outbuildings in cities should be so built as toexclude rats. Cement is the chief means to this end. Old tumble-downbuildings and wharves should not be tolerated in any city. (See fig. 2.)In both city andcountry, wooden floors of sidewalks, areas, and porchesare commonly laid upon timbers resting on the ground. Under such floorsrats have a safe retreat from nearly all enemies. The conditions can beremedied in townsby municipal action requiring that these floors bereplaced by others made of cement. Areas or walks made of brick areoften undermined by rats and may become as objectionable as those ofwood. Wooden floors ofporches should always be well above the ground.=Farm buildings.=--Granaries, corncribs, and poultry houses may be maderat-proof by a liberal use of cement in the foundations and floors; orthe floors may be of woodresting upon concrete. Objection has beenurged against concrete floors for horses, cattle, and poultry, becausethe material is too good a conductor of heat, and the health of theanimals suffers from contact with thesefloors. In poultry houses, drysoil or sand may be used as a covering for the cement floor, and instables a wooden floor resting on concrete is just as satisfactory sofar as the exclusion of rats is concerned.The commonpractice of setting corncribs on posts with inverted pans atthe top often fails to exclude rats, because the posts are not highenough to place the lower cracks of the structure beyond reach of theanimals. As rats areexcellent jumpers, the posts should be tall enoughto prevent the animals from obtaining a foothold at any place within 3feet of the ground. A crib built in this way, however, is not verysatisfactory.For a rat-proof crib awell-drained site should be chosen. The outerwalls, laid in cement, should be sunk about 20 inches into the ground.The space within the walls should be grouted thoroughly with cement andbroken stone and finishedwith rich concrete for a floor. Upon this thestructure may be built. Even the walls of the crib may be of concrete.Corn will not mold in contact with them, provided there is goodventilation and the roof iswater-tight.However, there are cheaper ways of excluding rats from either new or oldcorncribs. Rats, mice, and sparrows may be kept out effectually by theuse of either an inner or an outer covering of galvanized-wirenettingof half-inch mesh and heavy enough to resist the teeth of the rats. Thenetting in common use in screening cellar windows is suitable forcovering or lining cribs. As rats can climb the netting, the entirestructuremust be screened, or, if sparrows are not to be excluded, thewire netting may be carried up about 3 feet from the ground, and abovethis a belt of sheet metal about a foot in width may be tacked to theoutside of thebuilding.Complete working drawings for the practical rat-proof corncrib shown infigures 3 and 4 may be obtained from the Office of Public Roads andRural Engineering of the department.=Buildings for storingfoodstuffs.=--Whenever possible, stores of foodfor man or beast should be placed only in buildings of rat-proofconstruction, guarded against rodents by having all windows near theground and all other possible meansof entrance screened with nettingmade of No. 18 or No. 20 wire and of 1/4-inch mesh. Entrance doorsshould fit closely, should have the lower edges protected by wide stripsof metal, and should have springs attached,to insure that they shallnot be left open. Before being used for housing stores, the buildingshould be inspected as to the manner in which water, steam, or gaspipes go through the walls, and any openings found aroundsuch pipesshould be closed with concrete.[Illustration: FIG. 3.--Perspective of rat-proof corncrib, showingconcrete foundation by dotted lines; also belt of metal.]If rat-proof buildings are not available, it is possible, bythe use ofconcrete in basements and the other precautions just mentioned, to makean ordinary building practically safe for food storage.When it is necessary to erect temporary wooden structures to holdforage, grain,or food supplies for army camps, the floors of suchbuildings should not be in contact with the ground, but elevated, thesills having a foot or more of clear space below them. Smooth postsrising 2 or 3 feet above theground may be used for foundations, and thefloor itself may be protected below by wire netting or sheet metal atall places where rats could gain a foothold. Care should be taken tohave the floors as tight as possible,for it is chiefly scattered grainand fragments of food about a camp that attract rats.=Rat-proofing by elevation.=--The United States Public Health Servicereports that in its campaigns against bubonic plague in SanFrancisco(1907) and New Orleans (1914) many plague rats were found under thefloors of wooden houses resting on the ground. These buildings were maderat-proof by elevation, and no case of either human or rodentplagueoccurred in any house after the change. Placing them on smooth posts 18inches above the ground, with the space beneath the floor entirely open,left no hiding place for rats.This plan is adapted to small dwellingsthroughout the South, and tosmall summer homes, temporary structures, and small farm buildingseverywhere. Wherever rats might obtain a foothold on the top of the postthey may be prevented from gnawing theadjacent wood by tacking metalplates or pieces of wire netting to floor or sill.KEEPING FOOD FROM RATS AND MICE.The effect of an abundance of food on the breeding of rodents should bekept in mind. Well-fed ratsmature quickly, breed often, and have largelitters. Poorly fed rats, on the contrary, reproduce less frequently andhave smaller litters. In addition, scarcity of food makes measures fordestroying the animals far moreeffective.=Merchandise in stores.=--In all parts of the country there is a seriouseconomic drain in the destruction by rats and mice of merchandise heldfor sale by dealers. Not only foodstuffs and forage, buttextiles,clothing, and leather goods are often ruined. This loss is due mainly tothe faulty buildings in which the stores are kept. Often it would be ameasure of economy to tear down the old structures and replace thembynew ones. However, even the old buildings may often be repaired so as tomake them practically rat-proof; and foodstuffs, as flour, seeds, andmeats, may always be protected in wire cages at slight expense.Thepublic should be protected from insanitary stores by a system of rigidinspection.[Illustration: FIG. 4.--Floor plan of rat-proof corncrib shown in figure3.]=Household supplies.=--Similar care should be exercised in thehome toprotect household supplies from mice and rats. Little progress inridding the premises of these animals can be made so long as they haveaccess to supplies of food. Cellars, kitchens, and pantries oftenfurnishsubsistence not only to rats that inhabit the dwelling, but tomany that come from outside. Food supplies may always be kept from ratsand mice if placed in inexpensive rat-proof containers covered with wirenetting.Sometimes all that is needed to prevent serious waste is theapplication of concrete to holes in the basement wall or the slightrepair of a defective part of the building.=Produce in transit.=--Much loss of fruits,vegetables, and otherproduce occurs in transit by rail and on ships. Most of the damage isdone at wharves and in railway stations, but there is also considerablein ships' holds, especially to perishable produce broughtfrom warmlatitudes. Much of this may be prevented by the use of rat-proof cagesat the docks, by the careful fumigation of seagoing vessels at the endof each voyage, and by the frequent fumigation of vessels incoastwisetrade; but still more by replacing old and decrepit wharves and stationplatforms with modern ones built of concrete.Where cargoes are being loaded or unloaded at wharves or depots, foodliable to attack byrats may be temporarily safeguarded by being placedin rat-proof cages, or pounds, constructed of wire netting. Wooden boxescontaining reserve food held in depots for a considerable time orintended for shipment bysea may be made rat-proof by light coverings ofmetal along the angles. This plan has long been in use to protect navalstores on ships and in warehouses. It is based on the fact that rats donot gnaw the plane surfacesof hard materials, but attack doors,furniture, and boxes at the angles only.=Packing houses.=--Packing houses and abattoirs are often sources fromwhich rats secure subsistence, especially where meats are preparedformarket in old buildings. In old-style cooling rooms with double walls ofwood and sawdust insulation, always a source of annoyance because of ratinfestation, the utmost vigilance is required to prevent serious lossofmeat products. On the other hand, packing houses with modernconstruction and sanitary devices have no trouble from rats or mice.=Garbage and waste.=--Since much of the food of rats consists of garbageand otherwaste materials, it is not enough to bar the animals frommarkets, granaries, warehouses, and private food stores. Garbage andoffal of all kinds must be so disposed of that rats can not obtain them.In cities and townsan efficient system of garbage collection anddisposal should be established by ordinances. Waste from markets,hotels, cafÃ©s and households should be collected in covered metalreceptacles and frequently emptied.Garbage should never be dumped in ornear towns, but should be utilized or promptly destroyed by fire.Rats find abundant food in country slaughterhouses; reform in themanagement of these is badly needed. Suchplaces are centers of ratpropagation. It is a common practice to leave offal of slaughteredanimals to be eaten by rats and swine, and this is the chief means ofperpetuating trichinÃ¦ in pork. The law should require thatoffal bepromptly cremated or otherwise disposed of. Country slaughterhousesshould be as cleanly and as constantly inspected as abattoirs.Another important source of rat food is found in remnants of lunchesleft byemployees in factories, stores, and public buildings. This food,which alone is sufficient to attract and sustain a small army of rats,is commonly left in waste baskets or other open receptacles. Strictlyenforced rulesrequiring all remnants of food to be deposited in coveredmetal vessels would make trapping far more effective.[Illustration: FIG. 5.--Guillotine trap made entirely of metal.]Military training camps, unless subjected torigid discipline in thematter of disposal of garbage and waste, soon become centers of ratinfestation. Waste from camps, deposited in covered metal cans andcollected daily, should be removed far from the camp itself


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<title>Glengarry GlenRoss</title>
                     GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS                             by                         David MametSCENE ONEA booth at a Chinese restaurant, Williamson and Leveneareseated at the booth.                         LEVENE            John...John...John.  Okay.  John.            John.  Look:                   (pause)            The Glengarry Highland's leads,            you're sending Romaout.  Fine.            He's a good man.  We know what he            is.  He's fine.  All I'm saying,            you look at the board, he's            throwing...wait, wait, wait, he's            throwing them away, he'sthrowing            the leads away.  All that I'm            saying, that you're wasting leads.            I don't want to tell you your job.            All that I'm saying, things get            set, I know they do, you geta            certain mindset... A guy gets a            reputation.  We know how this...all            I'm saying, put a closer on the job.            There's more than one man for the...            Put a...wait a second, put aproven            man out...and you watch, now wait a            second--and you watch your dollar            volumes...You start closing them            for fifty 'stead of twenty-            five...you put a closer onthe...                         WILLIAMSON            Shelly, you blew the last...                         LEVENE            No.  John.  No.  Let's wait, let's            back up here, I did...will you            please?  Wait asecond.  Please.  I            didn't "blow" them.  No.  I didn't            "blow" them.  No.  One kicked out,            one I closed...                         WILLIAMSON            ...you didn'tclose...                         LEVENE            ...I, if you'd listen to me.            Please.  I closed the cocksucker.            His ex, John, his ex, I didn't know            he was married...he, the judge            invalidatedthe...                                                            2.                         WILLIAMSON            Shelly...                         LEVENE            ...and what is that, John?  What?            Badluck.  That's all it is.  I            pray in your life you will never            find it runs in streaks.  That's            what it does, that's all it's doing.            Streaks.  I pray it misses you.            That's all I want tosay.                         WILLIAMSON                   (pause)            What about the other two?                         LEVENE            What two?                         WILLIAMSON            Four.  You hadfour leads.  One            kicked out, one the judge, you say...                         LEVENE            ...you want to see the court            records?  John?  Eh?  You want to            godown...                         WILLIAMSON            ...no...                         LEVENE            ...do you want to godowntown...?                         WILLIAMSON            ...no...                         LEVENE            ...then...                         WILLIAMSON            ...Ionly...                         LEVENE            ...then what is this "you say"            shit, what is that?                   (pause)            What is that...?                         WILLIAMSON            All that I'msaying...                                                            3.                         LEVENE            What is this "you say"?  A deal            kicks out...I got to eat.  Shit,            Williamson,shit.  You...Moss...            Roma...look at the sheets...look at            the sheets.  Nineteen eighty,            eighty-one...eighty-two...six            months of eighty-two...who's there?            Who's upthere?                         WILLIAMSON            Roma.                         LEVENE            Underhim?                         WILLIAMSON            Moss.                         LEVENE            Bullshit.  John.  Bullshit.  April,            September 1981.  It's me.  It isn't            fucking Moss.  Due respect, he'san            order taker, John.  He talks, he            talks a good game, look at the            board, and it's me, John, it's me...                         WILLIAMSON            Not lately itisn't.                         LEVENE            Lately kiss my ass lately.  That            isn't how you build an org...talk,            talk to Murray.  Talk to Mitch.            When we were on Peterson, who paid            for hisfucking car?  You talk to            him.  The Seville...?  He came in,            "You bought that for me Shelly."            Out of what?  Cold calling.  Nothing.            Sixty-five, when we were there,            with Glen RossFarms?  You call 'em            downtown.  What was that?  Luck?            That was "luck"?  Bullshit, John.            You're burning my ass, I can't get            a fucking lead...you think that was            luck.  My stats forthose years?            Bullshit...over that period of            time...?  Bullshit.  It wasn't luck.            It was skill.  You want to throw            that away, John...?  You want to            throw thataway?                         WILLIAMSON            It isn't me...                                                            4.                         LEVENE            ...it isn't you...?  Who is it?            Who isthis I'm talking to?  I need            the leads...                         WILLIAMSON            ...after the thirtieth...                         LEVENE            Bullshit the thirtieth, I don't get            on the board thethirtieth, they're            going to can my ass.  I need the            leads.  I need them now.  Or I'm            gone, and you're going to miss me,            John, I swear toyou.                         WILLIAMSON            Murray...                         LEVENE            ...you talk to Murray...                         WILLIAMSON            I have.  And my job is tomarshal            those leads...                         LEVENE            Marshal the leads...marshal the            leads?  What the fuck, what bus did            you get off of, we're here to            fucking sell.  Fuckmarshaling the            leads.  What the fuck talk is that?            What the fuck talk is that?  Where            did you learn that?  In school?                   (pause)            That's "talk," my friend, that's            "talk." Ourjob is to sell.  I'm            the man to sell.  I'm getting            garbage.                   (pause)            You're giving it to me, and what            I'm saying is it'sfucked.                         WILLIAMSON            You're saying that I'm fucked.                         LEVENE            Yes.                   (pause)            I am.  I'm sorry to antagonizeyou.                         WILLIAMSON            Let me...                                                            5.                         LEVENE            ...and I'm going to get bouncedand            you're...                         WILLIAMSON            ...let me...are you listening to            me...?                         LEVENE            Yes.                         WILLIAMSON            Let metell you something, Shelly.            I do what I'm hired to do.            I'm...wait a second.  I'm hired to            watch the leads.  I'm given...hold            on, I'm given a policy.  My job is            to do that.  What I'mtold.  That's            it.  You, wait a second, anybody            falls below a certain mark I'm not            permitted to give them the premium            leads.                         LEVENE            Then how do theycome up above that            mark?  With dreck...?  That's            nonsense.  Explain this to me.            'Cause it's a waste, and it's a            stupid waste.  I want to tellyou            something...                         WILLIAMSON            You know what those leads cost?                         LEVENE            The premium leads.  Yes.  I know            what theycost.  John.  Because I,            I generated the dollar revenue            sufficient to buy them.  Nineteen            senny-nine, you know what I made?            Senny-nine?  Ninety-six thousand            dollars.  John?  ForMurray... For            Mitch...look at the sheets...                         WILLIAMSON            Murray said...                         LEVENE            Fuck him.  Fuck Murray.  John?  You            know?  You tellhim I said so.            What does he fucking know?  He's            going to have a "sales"            contest...you know what our sales            contest used tobe?                         (MORE)                                                            6.                         LEVENE (CONT'D)            Money.  A fortune.  Money lying on            theground.  Murray?  When was the            last time he went out on a sit?            Sales contest?  It's laughable.            It's cold out there now, John.            It's tight.  Money is tight.  This            ain't sixty-five.  Itain't.  It            just ain't.  See?  See?  Now, I'm a            good man--but I need a...                         WILLIAMSON            Murraysaid...                         LEVENE            John.  John...                         WILLIAMSON            Will you please wait a second.            Shelly.  Please.  Murray told me:            the hotleads...                         LEVENE            ...ah, fuck this...                         WILLIAMSON            The...Shelly?                   (pause)            The hot leads are assigned according            to theboard.  During the contest.            Period.  Anyone who beats fifty            per...                         LEVENE            That's fucked.  That's fucked.  You            don't look at the fucking percentage.            Youlook at the gross.                         WILLIAMSON            Either way.  You're out.                         LEVENE            I'mout.                         WILLIAMSON            Yes.                         LEVENE            I'll tell you why I'm out.  I'm            out, you're giving me toiletpaper.            John.                         (MORE)                                                            7.                         LEVENE (CONT'D)            I've seen those leads.  I sawthem            when I was at Homestead, we pitched            those cocksuckers Rio Rancho            nineteen sixty-nine they wouldn't            buy.  They couldn't buy a fucking            toaster.  They're broke,John.            They're cold.  They're deadbeats,            you can't judge on that.  Even so.            Even so.  Alright.  Fine.  Fine.            Even so.  I go in, FOUR FUCKING            LEADS they got their money in