Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1874-11-07
THE OPENING DOOR,

1 am a mining engineer. At the
time Of which am writing, was man
ager Of an extensive colliery in the
South Lancashire district. We en-
ployed large number OF men, very
various, of course, in character. 1t is
not my purpose to describe all particu-
larly, but we had among us several good
specimens of the collier of the last gen.
Grafton men who commenced pit-life
when womea shared their daily druid
gerry, who did the toughest part of their
life's work when there were no govern
ment inspectors to watch over their in.
terests; men, now subdued and quiet,
who could tell tales of coal.pit life in
the old rough wild days to which the
present are tameness itself. These
men were superstitious to an amusing
degree, constantly on the lookout for
signs and omens, not in "the falling
leaf, the swapping twig," exactly, but
in the swapping and falling treacherous
roof of the mine in the accidental ex-
tinguishing of lights; in the simmer
ing of gas-bubbles, working their way
through the wet "face" of the coal :
also in dreams, whether their own, or
any one else's. I used to laugh at their
sometimes expressed fears but the
time came when could at least sympa-
thize with them. .s
was sitting in the office, near the
pit, one hot summers afternoon. 1t
was hot place, being adjacent to the
boilers, and noisy one into the bar
gain, being situated over a steam saw
bench. My temper had been little
disturbed by the pertinacious endeavors
of traveller in iron to draw an order
from me, a process which, having no
need of iron, I particularly objected to,
and which he, needing orders, particu-
larly insisted on. I had shown my
gentleman out four times, but, with
the brazen efrontery of his tribe, he
would persist in returning, till I was
obliged at last to shut and bolt the
door, thereby effectually stanching the
flow Of his Establishments, but also
making the office more and more like q
drying-stove. Presently I peeped out
OF the window-my persecutor was
gone. I opened the door; in front OF
it, about to knock, stood old Jenny
Taylor. Jenny was one of the patri.
archal golfers I have mentioned above
IN appearance, skeleton, dressed in 9
light suit of parchment; gaunt, grim,
and gray-haired; no model for Apollo,
or even in his best dnys, for oil his
limbs had undergone fracture once, Oh
oftener, which process is no beautifel
OF the human frame. There he was in
his skull-cap, faded blue shirt, and
ragged old velveteen coat and trousers
as he had stood many a time before
when he had desired an interview with
me upon questions of ventilation ; fol
Jenny was our head wasteman."
may explain here, that, in pit Ian
guage, the waste means the old work
ings, that district of the mine from
which the coal has been removed. Mos
parts of the waste are left to take care
of themselves, which they speedily dt
by closing again into solidity bu
through other parts it is often neces
sary to maintain air-roads : passages tt
carry on the stream of air from on,
part of the mine to another, or out Il
the vent, the upcast shaft. The ofic,
of the watchman is to keep these road
in order, and see that they do not be
come blocked up by fallen shale; SO q
to impede or stop the ventilation. I
is impressive, even TO one accustomed
to them, to travel along these vast
roads. You may walk hundreds ant
hundreds of yards along the low, mar
row passages, far away from the work
ing-places of the colliers; and rAor
complete isolation you could not feel,
believe, in the middle OF desert. I
would be an awkward thing to los
yonr light, too, on one of those Jour
neys. Ii well acquainted with th