Chang has arrived.  For years vague rumors have been circulated to the effect that Europe had a giant that the Tritons themselves might envy.  If an American, Australian, or Canadian giant was produced, some scoffing foreigner was always ready with "Call him a giant?  You just ought to see Chang.  Chang can swing his arm over this fellow's head and not touch him."


Yesterday when the City of Berlin reached her wharf the cabmen fell back in dismay at the apparition which loomed up and picked his way carefully down the gang plank.  This was Chang.  He walked up to a coach with majestic tread and, resting his hand lightly on the seat which was above an ordinary man's head, looked down upon the driver and smiling, said in perfect English:  "Can you drive my secretary and myself to the Spanish Hotel at 23 Jones street?"


"Can-can you get into the carriage?" stammered the hackman.


"Oh, yes easily," and the giant crouched down until his knees nearly reached the ground, and half slid, half crammed himself into the vehicle.


A Sun reporter called at the Spanish Hotel in the afternoon, and saw sitting on an improvised seat of two chair with heavy boards laid across, a presence which seemed to fill the whole room. 


Chang is unquestionably the largest man in the world.


He is gigantic.


Kennebec Reporter, Gardiner, Maine, Dec. 25th, 1880



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