Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1867-05-09
miscellaneous.
(From the Temple Barr
a MINERS LOVE STORY,

in the pit village. Her eyes were of
the sweetest blue her checks were
like rose and you might have
thought her brown hair was the finest
silk. Then she had a figure like a
fairy, it was so trim and with
waist you could almost span. l
loved Nelly, but, as for that, all the
young chaps of the village were of
the same mind, and she might have
had her pick of us the worst of it
was, she treated US all alike, and
wouldn't look at one more that all
other. She had a smile for every
body, and was always good-temper-
ed, but there it ended, and, somehow,
none of us could screw up courage
to try her further. Idon't know how
often thought it over. 1t came in
to my head the first thing in the
morning, and there it remained the
last thing at night, when it either
kept me awake or haunted my dreams
At last itquite took possession of me.
No matter where | am, digging or
blasting, or tunnelling above ground
or down in pit my thoughts turned
on Nelly, and from being the mer.
riest fellow in the village, l just
came to be the dullest. One morn
ing there was no work in the pit for
my gang, because the viewer want
ed that part of the seam shored up,
and it struck me, all at once, that |
would have it out with Nelly, 80 l
made myself smart, and set off, walk
ing as brisk as if it was a wager
You may think it conceit in me, but
| can say that | was then as clever
a chap to look at as you would often
see--and knew it For all that, |
began to walk a bit slow when
caught sight of Mrs. Glover's cot
tage, and felt dread at my heart.
But went on, and l just got up to
the cottage, when who should come
out but Nelly herself She never
looked prettier than at that minute :;
but, appearing so suddenly, she
dashed my spirit, and l hadn't a
word to say to her.
Why, Charley, what is the mat
ter ?"
"Well, it is just this" I said and
there | stopped.
ais there anything wrong with
Jack 7" she cried, quickly.
Jack p
Eyes, he is down in the pit, and
they say it is foul, which makes moth.
er and me uneasy. You haven't
heard anything?" And she looked
in my eyes as if she would search
me through.
"No, no |" l answered, steadying,
now that l thought l could comfort
her ; "He is all right. You mustn't
mind what the old women of the vii
lage say, or you'll be looking for a
blow-up every day in the year, when
there is nothing more than common.
l haven't come to you about Jack,
Nelly; it is about myself"
She gave me another look now
then her cheek flushed up like flame;
and her eyes turned away.
"Do you know what | want to say,
Nelly?" | went on " | wish you did
for | can't tell it, 1t is more than |
have got words for. How l love you,
how you are always before me, how
/ am crazed and mad about you =
But though | can't say all | want to,
here l stand, and l wouldn't change
with a king, if you'll take me as l
am ?"
"Ah, Charley you don't know
how you pain me-" she answered.
Don't say that, Nellie. l doubt
ed about speaking to you, but now
that have done it, now that | can't
go on deceiving myself, if you have
any pity in your heart, show it to
me, and will cherish you to the day
of my death"
1T is no use," she replied, q" can
never marry pitman. | gave the
promise to mother and Jack, when he
walked up the village at the funeral
of my poor father and brothers, all
three killed in the mine-our great
sorrow, which / can never think of
without crying.
And the tears, it is true, were run
Ring down her cheeks, though, for
the minute, she seemed to be harder
than stone. And l seemed turned to
stone myself. | had no recollection,
no feeling, and no sense, and | could
MT have moved a step to save my
life. Then it all flashed upon me like
lightning. | took last look at Mel
ly, dropped my head ON my breast,
and, without a word more, walked
out of the gate.
Our village seldom looked bright,
no matter how the sun shone, and
now / felt as if the sun would never
shine again for me, so, as my eye fell
on the line of cottages, with the
clouds hanging down from above,
and nothing round but a waste, |
thought l might as we'll be in my
grave as continue to live there. Be-
sides, | should be always meeting
Nelly, perhaps lurking about her
mothers cottage, and making her as
miserable as myself Why shouldn't
l go away, to Yorkshire, or Derby
shire, or to the diggings in Austria
liza, for that matter? The notion, if
it was good for nothing more, gave
me a little spirit. l turned my
thoughts, and l stepped out brisker,
going straight home. hadn't much
to settle there, only to bid goodbye
to the folks l lived with, and soon
came out, pack on back, and began
my tramp.
1 stopped at the moor, and looked
back, remembering might never see
the place again, and, dismal as |
now thought it, with it's gaping walls
and shaken roofs encumbering the