John M. Hall, an awning maker, who has been spending his vacation in a lodging house at Broome and Hudson streets, taking frequent dips in five-cent schooners of rye, was sleeping off a week’s liquidation to-day when a pink elephant invaded his room.
    Hall did not tarry. He flung himself down the stairway. Before he reached the street the one pink elephant had grown into a herd, and all were crowding onto his heels.
    Halls appearance in Broome street started a panic. He was dressed—not even in a smile. The small boys gathered around and hooted and yelled, but the women took half a glance and fled.
    Across Broome street east Hall paraded. He invaded the silk district, where thousands of young women are employed. Many were in the street and many others were working at the windows. They all best a retreat in disorder and alarm.
    As Hall neared Broadway the crowd about him increased. The street was choked from building to building with a howling mass of men and boys.
    Policeman Billy Benkler, of the Broadway Squad, got a glimpse of the crowd and then a peep of Hall. Then he got into action. He plunged through the crowd and dragged Hall into the nearest doorway. It happened to be the engine room of No. 442 Broome street. The engineer loaned a jumper and pair of overalls and Hall was taken to the Macdougal street station.
    The police gave Hall a tonic and he brushed away the pink elephant vision. He had no recollection of his stroll.

From—The Evening World. (New York, N.Y.), 30 Nov. 1906. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress.