The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1871-02-24
BY Alfred =. Horsley.
.#iseeIlaay.
the FIREMAN.
BY S. BARDING GOULD, M A.

the FIREMAN.
BY S. BARDING GOULD, NJ A.
Thereare certain men employed in
iron-furnances to work up the molten
iron before it Is run into molds- these
are called puddlers. They have huge
rakes and spuds which they strike into
the smelted ore, working it about till
all the earthly particles and those 9TH
er things existing in hammered, but
never found in cast iron, and the ma
ture Of which we hardly under stand,
are utterly burnt out. This life of the
of the metal appears in keen scintilla-
tons of the surface, and as soon as they
are no longer visible-as soon as the
glowing matter preserves, in uniform
glare Of ruddy white-the iron is con-
sidered dead and fit to be run into
molds. .r
Now, in order that a man may be a
good workman, he must become part
and parcel of his work. The fruit of
the toll must, in like manner, become
so intimately united with its artificer
that in it he shall really, and not
WOCnisuOAAColty, ANCs
The sculptor casts his own spirit into
his carving; SO that when the framer
Of the statue is dead as to his body, as
to his soul he lives. Thus for centuries
the artist can still do good works,
when his piOus handicraft excites holy
aspirations in others and thus he can
reap the benefit of them. He cannot
be accounted dead till his handiwork
is utterly destroyed. Erwin Non
Steinbach lives on in Strasburg Min
ster. e
So also with the poet, whose soul is,
in part communicated to his writings,
SO as to live and move and have Its
being in other mems hearts for many
generations; and for every great and
heroic act to which his words may i'm
pei them he will reap his reward. Thus
alas ! also with the evil man of genius
whose soul, once impaired to his work
must remain fettered to it, till it has
wrought out its full harvest of evil,
when it will return loaded with those
CHASTITY tare-bundles to consume its
reunited SELF
The irOn-wOrkers are not quite ignOr-
ant Of this truth, but believe that their
hopes of salvation lie in the metal they
work. The hammered iron they find
to bend buxOmly to their will, and the
molten iron to be dull and lifeless so
have they obtained strange faith coll
cerning the metal-a faith which |
purpose now to illustrate.
There were many puddlers engaged
upon a vast mass of ore in certain
pudding furnace. You must know
that none but the strongest and braw-
niest men can be employed on this
work, for the fire eats into their bones
and destroys them in a few years, un-
less they are exceedingly powerful and
healthy.
Peter Lundy was the largest and
most muscular man at the farnace,
and he worked the glowing iron with
gigantic force. His breast and arms
were covered with dense black hair,
and most of his features were similarly
concealed; where they did show, they
were cOppered by the heat.
"Peter ~ said another puddler, lean
ing half exhausted on his spud, ''there
goes another bright hope for you - and
he pointed to vivid spark burning in
the waves of iron which Lundy was
driving before his rake.
81 don't understand what you mean
Bill, said Peter, "you're ever a call
ing them sparks our hopes"
"And SO they be, "retOrted the other.
Don't you know that an iron-foun-
der's hope of salvation lies in hard
metal, and that the hope leaves it
when he puddles it molten. Every
spark man brings up in that fiery
ore is some grace-hour to him: an idle
workman produces few but some pud-
dlers may toll all to-day, and not an
other will come after that, however
much they may stir the iron.
~ never heard that afore,n said
Peter.
II s'pose you never learnt you cate
chism, replied Bill.
"Can't say as ever 1 did," growled
Lundy.
II have, thocgh," remarked third
laborer, "but nothing about the hopes
being in them sparks. That amt in
the Catechism nowhere"
"Then it ought to be-" retorted Bill,
sententiously.
81 have a-heard'' observed Jonas
Black, an old master man, "that there
have been puddlers who've come by
them sparkles in ungodly ways, and
made money by 'em. They caugaS or
raked 'em in afore they went out, and
sold 'em for mint of money. l can't
say as how l have ever tried to get
them like that myself; for the Lord
will order them If we let them alone
and never thought of turning them
into money. God forbid that a man
should get rid of his hopes of salvation
in that way"
at amt possible said Bill; 81 have
tried often to get them sparks up, and
they have always gone out afore they
reached the edge"
That evening Peter Lundy walked
back gloomly to his hovel.
at amt much l care for my hopes
of salvation" said he to himself. "If
Icould only get hold of those sparkles
i'm the iron, I'd soon swap 'em for a
few shillings."
Peter had son about twelve years
old, and baby daughter. The wife
had died on giving birth to the little
girl, so George was always left at home
to look after the child. Peters was a
miserable hut, consisting of a single
dirty room, lighted by window
half patched with rags and wisps of
straw.
There's a stranger within father,n
said the lad. "He asked for a lodging
here tonight, when he found there was
no public house nearer than the next
village; he promised to pay WE'LL"
Peter pushed George aside and step
IA An ne elderly man in a dark brown
cloak sat on rickety chair by the fire
and warmed his thin hands over the
cinders. Peter saluted him with a
slOuch of the head; the stranger rose
and apolOgized for the intrusion, re-
peating his request for nights lOdg-
ing.
"There's only one bed," said Lundy,
"and that's at your honor's service
but we are very poor people and have
not got good accommodation for gen.
tie folk"
"That does not matter" answered
the elderly man; "but, master, can
you not give me a, little more fire? l
am shivering with cold"
"George, shove on some peat, and a
few humps of coke" shouted the pud-
dler. ET
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