Boat hooks, brooms, and shovels were immediately pressed into service, and the excited crowd waited for the deer to come ashore.
When the doe saw them she changed her direction, veering toward the ferry-boat Englewood, which is hibernating in the Edgewater slip, and took refuge in the lee of the paddle wheel. Having rested, the deer swam out into open water, headed directly for the ferry slip and splashed merrily about below the astonished crowd of amateur stalkers. Someone got a rope and attempted to noose the animal, but she couldn't see it that way, calmly ducked and continued to cavort about in the water.
Finally the doe became bored, dove under the edge of the slip, and was lost to sight momentarily. She then appeared on the other side of the ferry house. Before the crowd could reach her, she scrambled ashore opposite Terry Terhune's Dairy Lunch, looked wonderingly into Gantert Bros,' thirst quenching parlors, dashed up Dempsey Avenue and with a whisk of her tail disappeared up the mountain beyond Palisade Park.
"Well, suffering Jumbo!" said Tom Flynn, "these guys don't know nothing about deer catching," and he went sadly back to his coal car.
Several weeks ago three deer escaped from the Harriman preserves up the river, and the doe of yesterday's chase is supposed to be one of them.
Originality in the treatment of the ordinary material
of a news story is illustrated in the following beginning
of a report of a conference on rural problems.
The little red schoolhouse and the
big yellow ear of corn, how to develop
each and how to correlate their interests,
was the problem discussed
yesterday afternoon by a committee
