HARBORING RATS
The New Yorker|September 04, 2023
Vermin of the waterfront and beyond.
JOSEPH MITCHELL
HARBORING RATS

In New York, as in all great seaports, rats abound. One is occasionally in their presence without being aware of it. In the whole city relatively few blocks are entirely free of them. They have diminished greatly in the last twenty-five years, but there still are millions here; some authorities believe that in the five boroughs there is a rat for every human being. During a war, the rat populations of seaports and of ships always shoot up. House rats left their nests in basements and began to dig burrows in vacant lots and parks, particularly Central Park, earlier this spring than they have for many years. A steady increase in shipboard rats began to be noticed in New York Harbor in the summer of 1940, less than a year after the war started in Europe. Rats and rat fleas in many foreign ports are at times infected with the plague, an extraordinarily ugly disease that occurs in several forms, of which the bubonic, the Black Death of the Middle Ages, is the most common. Consequently, all ships that enter the harbor after touching at a foreign port are examined for rats or for signs of rat infestation by officials of the United States Public Health Service, who go out in cutters from a quarantine station on the Staten Island bank of The Narrows. If a ship appears to be excessively infested, it is anchored in the bay or in one of the rivers, its crew is taken off, and its holds and cabins are fumigated with gas so poisonous that a whiff or two will quickly kill a man, let alone a rat. In 1939 the average number of rats killed in a fumigation was 12.4. In 1940 the average rose abruptly to 21, and two years later it reached 32.1. In 1943, furthermore, rats infected with the plague bacteria, Pasteurella pestis, were discovered in the harbor for the first time since 1900. They were taken out of an old French tramp, the Wyoming, in from Casablanca, where the Black Death has been intermittent for centuries.

Bu hikaye The New Yorker dergisinin September 04, 2023 sayısından alınmıştır.

Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.

Bu hikaye The New Yorker dergisinin September 04, 2023 sayısından alınmıştır.

Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.

THE NEW YORKER DERGISINDEN DAHA FAZLA HIKAYETümünü görüntüle
ART OF STONE
The New Yorker

ART OF STONE

\"The Brutalist.\"

time-read
6 dak  |
December 30, 2024 - January 6, 2025
MOMMA MIA
The New Yorker

MOMMA MIA

Audra McDonald triumphs in \"Gypsy\" on Broadway.

time-read
5 dak  |
December 30, 2024 - January 6, 2025
INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS
The New Yorker

INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS

\"Black Doves,\" on Netflix.

time-read
5 dak  |
December 30, 2024 - January 6, 2025
NATURE STUDIES
The New Yorker

NATURE STUDIES

Kyle Abraham's “Dear Lord, Make Me Beautiful.”

time-read
5 dak  |
December 30, 2024 - January 6, 2025
WHAT GOOD IS MORALITY?
The New Yorker

WHAT GOOD IS MORALITY?

Ask not just where it came from but what it does for us

time-read
10+ dak  |
December 30, 2024 - January 6, 2025
THE SPOTIFY SYNDROME
The New Yorker

THE SPOTIFY SYNDROME

What is the world's largest music-streaming platform really costing us?

time-read
10+ dak  |
December 30, 2024 - January 6, 2025
THE LEPER - LEE CHANGDONG
The New Yorker

THE LEPER - LEE CHANGDONG

. . . to survive, to hang on, waiting for the new world to dawn, what can you do but become a leper nobody in the world would deign to touch? - From \"Windy Evening,\" by Kim Seong-dong.

time-read
10+ dak  |
December 30, 2024 - January 6, 2025
YOU WON'T GET FREE OF IT
The New Yorker

YOU WON'T GET FREE OF IT

Alice Munro's partner sexually abused her daughter. The harm ran through the work and the family.

time-read
10+ dak  |
December 30, 2024 - January 6, 2025
TALK SENSE
The New Yorker

TALK SENSE

How much sway does our language have over our thinking?

time-read
10+ dak  |
December 30, 2024 - January 6, 2025
TO THE DETECTIVE INVESTIGATING MY MURDER
The New Yorker

TO THE DETECTIVE INVESTIGATING MY MURDER

Dear Detective, I'm not dead, but a lot of people can't stand me. What I mean is that breathing is not an activity they want me to keep doing. What I mean is, they want to knock me off. My days are numbered.

time-read
3 dak  |
December 30, 2024 - January 6, 2025