The Sun.
London, England, 1868-12-04 00:00:00

BEHIND THE SCENES

There is a very amusing sketch in the New York TribunO,
shewing how neatly beggars know how to "swindle "
we can use no milder word—the benevolent out of their
money:—" Some benevolent persons-will perhaps recollect
a poor miserable-looking man, who, with a placard, I.
am. Blind,' hanging on his breast, stood shivering in the
cold on Wednesday last under the windows of the
building on Broadway lately known as the Southern
Hotel. His eyes, one mass of inflamed sores, appeared
to suffer terribly from the piercing cold wind, and
attracted a good deal of pecuniary sympathy from the
pastors by. Further clown the Broadway, on the kerb-
stone near Canal street, a poor woman was seated, soliciting
pennies from the charitable. She, too, had a placard
over her bosom announcing her blindness. At this
momenta drunken sailer came up, and saying, Come,
get up, old horse,' deliberately kicked the poor creature in
the side. yer repthile yer ; how dar yer illthrate a
poor hould widdy, what's got seven childer a stharvin at
home ?' moaned she, and began to cry piteously. A
reporter of the Tribune. who happened to be passing,
joined the bystanders in comforting the poor widdy,
who reaped a rich harvest from their contributions.
Now comes the strange part of the story. Our
reporter, who had a visit to pay in the Brandreth
House, close by, was astonished to witness on leaving pre-
cisely the same scene that occurred on his entrance an hour
before. Suspecting that all was not right, he lit a cigar,
bought a newspaper, and set himself to watch any further
proceedings. In three-quarters of an hour the farce was
played again, a little lower down the street, the same bru-
tality, the same Celtic remonstrances, and more stamps
from the bystanders. Determined to see more of this, he
repaired to the spot again about half-past five o'clock, and
found the poor blind widdy' preparing to go home, help-
lessly led by a little girl, who was most careful of her.
Following at a short distance, our reporter saw them
separate at the corner of Water-street, the woman tucking
her placard of blindness under her arm, and getting on
first-rate alone. She turned up one of the lone, narrow
places out of Water-street, and entered one of the lowest
class liqour stores in which that neighbourhood abounds,
wishing the landlord, a rosy-faced, sharp-eyed, tubby
little Dutchman, 'good evening' as she went in. Can
I have a glass of lager?' inquired her pursuer. Yah,
vark in,' replied the Dutchman. The reporter entered
boldly, and he found himself in a low, ill-lighted room,
filled with a nice selection from the habitue" of the neigh-
bourhood. Judge, then, of his astonishment ma seeing at
the further end of the room his ' sore-eyed' friend from
under the windows of the Southern Hotel, his eyes look-
ing marvelously well, evidently cured by the action of a
basin of cold water and a piece of yellow soap, with a
glass of the crather ' steaming by his side, and dis-
cussing something out of the five o'clock edition of
the Daily News, with no less a person than the drunken
sailor.' What luck the day ?" Biddy, inquired
Sore eyes.' Purty good, party good, eh,
Mike ?' responded the poor victim of brutality, as she
knowingly leered at the ' drunken sailor,' and then
they all three laughed heartily, the little Dutch landlord,
who was evidently up to the job,' joining in. Thinking
discretion the better part of valour, our reporter paid for
his lager and walked out, deeming it imprudent to open
out in such a place. Of course, he now regrets that he did
not at the time call the attention of the police to the
woman, but he was anxious to see the little game played
out He says the • widdy' must have realised the best part
of a dollar for every brutal kick.' "

THE WIGAN EXPLOSIO.Y.

..9.

The coroner's inquiry into the cause of the Wigan ex-
plosion was resumed on Thursday. Mr. Maskell Peace,
town clerk of Wigan, appeared on behalf of the pro-
prietors ; Messrs. Higeon and Dickenson, Government
inspectors, were present, as well as the miners' agents,
Messrs. Pickard and Aspinall, and several of the local
clergymen.

Mr. Thomas Southworth, the manager of the Hindley-
green Colliery, was the first witness called. He pro-
duced a plan of the workings, and stated the explosion
occurred in the dip workings on the west level at a little
after half-past eight o'clock in the morning. At the
time of the explosion he was on his way from Hindley-
green station to the works. Reaching the colliery he
found the ventilation reversed—the downcast acting as the
upcast, and the upcast as the downcast. In the upcast
there was no injury. They do not wind by it, although
there is a cage in readiness. The'calamity occurred, he
believed, about Isherwood and Beesley'ddown brow— they
were both narrow places, "face ends." Isherwood was
found dead the same day, but Beesley was not found until
Saturday, and then not at his own place. The reason
why he was not found earlier was that it was never sup-
posed he would he in that quarter of the mine where his
body was discovered. Beesley was supposed to be sitting
in the level at the time. He had evidently brought his
box from the place in which he was engaged at breakfast-
time to the level. He was found about 120 yards away
from the shunt, at Ingram's brow, on the main west level.
All the deceased worked in the west level. He did not
believe that any of the men who were in the dip-workings
escaped. There is a barometer at the bottom of the pit,
and a clock beside it, and the observations are taken daily,
and duly registered.
Ellis Drinnan was then called. He said : I am under-
looker, in charge of the Ilindley-green pits. I live close
to the colliery. I went down the pit about six o'clock on
Thursday. I found in the office the head fireman,
Joseph Highton, and asked him as to the state of the pit.
He had been his round, he said, and all was right. Wil-
liam Meadows, under fireman, was also present. I went
to the lower side of the shunt and then to the other side,
and everything appeared right. It was then breakfast-
time, and I went and had breakfast. The whistle
blew at half-past eight o'clock for the pit to
start. I sent the lads out, and then went
round to the up-cast, where I stood for a few
minutes. I was suddenly knocked down, and I could
not see for dust and coal. There was a great wind.
I prepared for running, intending to leave the pit
as soon as I could. I was almcst smothered with
dust. I took the west level to get to the pit shaft. When
I got there I went up at once. A man named Henry
Hayes, a pony tenter, came up by the same cage; he had
been burnt by the furnace. When I came to the top I
went down by the other cage. Joseph Ingram had then
commenced to send up the men who were burnt. There
were five or six cages of them. When we got down the
draught was blowing the flames of the furnace upthe shaft
instead of by the regular flue. We "slacked " out the fire
as well as we could, and afterwards the water was sent
down the pit, and all was right directly. The men then
began to pour in from the east workings, and we sent them
up as fast as we could. All the deceased were found that
day, with one exception. I made no investigation myself
that day, but I have since passed through the whole of
the west level, including the dip workings, and I am sure
the explosion has taken place on the lower side. The mine
makes gas, and only locked safety lamps are allowed to be
used. A daily register is kept of the quantity of air which goes
into the workings and its distribution. The average
quantity passing into the westerly side averaged from
18,000 to 19,000 cubic feet per minute. That quantity has
been sufficient so far to clear the workings from gas.
There was passing through on the day before the explosion
19,020 feet, and through the dip workings 5,760 feet.
There appeared the ordinary quantity on the morning of
the explosion.