The year the Hydro Majestic Hotel failed as a hydropathic institute Harry Kitchings fell in love with the air and stayed. Les Curtain began to feel the dusk in his lungs. It was a romantic year. Men carried thermometers and dreamed of women struck by lightening. Postmen hauled pockets filled with love and human hair. Women carried notebooks and pressed storms in them like flowers. You could feel our love rising from the mountain tops like steam.