The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1875-12-16


50 little with the important duty before
him.
Not word was said by either watcher,
and only the deep roar of the furnace
was heard through the vast foundry.
George finished his supper, and saun-
tered into one of the tool shops to find
his pipe. "InventOr" sat alone before
the great blast. The one rational faculty
OF his feeble mind enabled him to com
prchcnd what it meant, and even some
thing of the magnitude of the enterprise
that was ripcning inside those burning
walls. He knew that the furnace was
full of valuable metal, and that close
beside him, buried out of sight in the
deep sand, was the huge mold, so soon to
be filled with the precious cast. He
knew and could see that all the channels
lorth flow Of the fiery liquid were ready,
and that near the mouth of the furnace
stood the long iron rod that was to he
used when the moment came to let on
the molten stream.
All this his limited thoughts took in
by habit, Dmly conscious that some
thing was to be done, he sat his eyes ON
the furnace absorbed and intent.
Suddenly something startled HIM
There was Il slight noise, and a burning
crack appeared near the top of the fur
mace. Then another crack, and Il scorch-
ing brick fell out and rolled to the
ground at his feet.
The lad opened his mouth to shrek,
but 50 terrified was he that the sounds
stuck in his throat, as if he had been in
a fit of nightmare.
/ A thin red stream followed the fallen
brick, and trickled down the furnace side
like running lava. Then came another
alarming noise, and thin gap half way
down the masonry let out more of the
kissing metal.
Where was George? Was the un-
faithful fellow still hunting his pipe?
The furnace was bursting with only
poor, half-idiot lad to guard it.
What could he do? He did what
perhaps a lad in his right mind would |
not have dared to do. Rushing to the
mouth of the furnace he seized the long |
iron rod that stood near, and tapped the
vent. One desperate thrust with a
sharp point up the terrible funnel-a
few quick prying strokes Stand back
now. The confning clay fell away, and
the yellow white flood spurted out with
resistlcss force. 1t leaped in the clay
lined troughs, and hssed its way, flaming
down to the mouth of the bell mold.
The "fool" had done a deed worthy of
a general on field of battle.
Was it too late? Every moment new
issurcs opened in the doomed furnace.
Some of the upper stones topplcd over.
Still the metal poured out into the mold.
But the waste was great from those gap
ing flaws. The pressure was relieved by
open vent, but the leaks multiplied con
tinuaIly. 1t was art running a race with |
ruin.
Poor "Mopus" stood powerless before
the coming catastrophe. His knees
knocked together and his head swan. A
great heap of red hot bricks and rubbish
fell at his feet. lie had barely thought
to get out the way and save his life. He
heard wild shout of human voices in
the distance, then an awful roar behind
him, and he felt himself pursued by
surges of seething fire. Sharp, blister
ing pains pierced his flesh at hundred
points. The rest was all horrible, un-
Ineligible dream. 1t was as if he had
suddenly sank into the earth and had
been swallowed up forever.
BY seven o'clock comparative quiet
reigning again on the scene of the dis
aster. Ruins lay everywhere. The en-
gines had aucnchcd the flames that had |
caught the building, and the men,
blackencd with smoke, stood in silent
groups around the remains of the fur
mace. 1t had fallen to pieces and nothing
was left but heaps of steaming rubbish.
Poor "InventOr," who had been lGnnd
with the tapping rod in his hands, lying
on his face in the sand, frightfully
burned, had been carried to his home.
Little was said, but the few words
spoken uttered with no mild emphasis
the natural wrath of the matter and
hands against the man George, whose ex-
cusc for himself only exaggerated his Of
fense.
"See what he has done," said they, Il
few days later, as they stood in the half
burned foundry. Give thousand dol
lars gone to waste in minute. The
best Job in twenty years spoiled. The
rascal 90 to hunting for his pipe, and
leave that suffering idiot to watch! Is
that all he can say for himself? Out
upon such carclessnesS! Why the boy
didn't even know enough to bawl out
when he must have seen the furnace
tumbling to pieces"
The master, who had more at stake
than the men, of course felt the loss
more keenly than they. He almost wept
with mingled grief and rage. Suddenly
something peculiar caught his eye among
the debris, and he cried in a startled
voice:
"Hallo! What's this? What's this?
He snatched up fragment of one OF
the troughs which had led from the mold.
There were traces of the stream of bronze
still running in it. Then the possible
meaning of the iron found in the injured
boys hand flashed upon him.
"Bring me shovel quick" he
shouted. :,
A spade was put into his hand, and he
began nervously to heaye away the hot
mass that lay piled over the belt mold.
1t was herculean task, but he worked
like giant, and three or four of his
men took hold and helped him.
Brick bats, ore, Stag, and ashes flew in
every direction. Presently the MASTER
spade penetrated the sand and touched
something hard. He stopped down.
Then he leaped up like one half frantic,
and plying his spade with redoubled en-
ergy, tore away the remaining sand, dis
closing, what looked like great metallic
ring.
"Men," he cried out, liftinghis hushec
. face, "thc bell is castr'
"Who did this2" asked every excite,
,.;.... ~. .....,,, ~, tl,n chnnrinr ,IinI nmnv