With the coming of the warm weather, the annual problem of the ventilation of the Dublin tram-cars becomes acute.
Even on the hottest day there are passengers who object to an opened window or door, and these people invariably seem to possess more moral courage than their companions who are gasping for fresh air.
If only those who prefer stuffiness would confine themselves to the "lower deck," and leave the others in undisputed possession of an airy "top deck," all would be well, but only the tram-ways company can make this a stern rule.
There is one thing, however, that the company might do at present. It can ensure that the windows are capable of being opened and of remaining open.
Discussing this matter the other day with a prominent Dublin business man, I learnt of an incident that occurred in the days of the horse trams.
There were, in the oven-like interior, an elderly woman who wanted all the possible sources of ventilation closed, and an elderly man, who wanted them open. Time and again he opened one of the little panels over the windows, and, as often as he did so the woman shut it with her umbrella and a sniff. The old man grew purple in the face from lack of air and excess of rage while the old woman glared at him and muttered under her breath.
At last, when she had closed the little panel for about the sixteenth time, her antagonist could stand it no longer. Rising to his feet, he deliberately thrust his umbrella through the glass and barked at the old lady, "Now! Close that, if you can!"
The Irish Times, May 29th,1931.