“When the steamship Rotterdam arrived at her pier in Hoboken yesterday there was a great scurrying about the ship by all of the stewards and the crew to find the sixty-four midgets that were aboard. They were bound for Coney Island, where they will take part in one of the shows to be presented this Summer. All during the trip the agent of the seaside resort had kept his eyes on them and prevented the little men and women, who do not stand higher than a good sized ten-pin, from getting lost. In the excitement of docking his watchfulness had been relaxed. When landing time came but half of the group were to be seen.
“As the search went on the little fellows were pulled out of the strangest places into which they had retreated, frightened by the sights of the great city. They hid under chairs and tables in the dining room, inside of rope coils, and some had even crawled into wardrobes in the staterooms, and could not be dislodged until they were assured that the big buildings would not harm them.
“Their household furniture, which was taken ashore, looked like dolls’ ware. They had with them their own fire department, the apparatus of which was carried down the gangway by one of the stevedores.
“Among the group was the Countess Magri, widow of Tom Thumb. She was becomingly dressed in black silk, and carried a sunshade of red. Many of her old friends were at the pier to meet her, and some of the women in order to kiss her picked her up in their arms.
“The company comes from Budapest, where there is a midgets’ colony. These were the selected because they are the smallest that could be found.”
– The New York Times, May 12, 1904
You cannot make this stuff up.