The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1878-01-11
A Fairy Story which is rrue.

A Fairy Story Which is Crue.
Across the sea, ia one of the Old
World countries, there is still left fairy
land. To find it, one must travel far and
long, and when, mt last, the entrance is
reached everything about it looks and is
very strange. OF course the traveller
who decides to enter the enchanted land
must first obey his guide, dismiss all
fear, and put on the white robe and cap
of velvet provided for him. 4 wishing
cap, you know, or sometimes an invisible
cap is part OF every outfit in iairyland.
The guide, who wears a black suit, is
quite solemn, and utters prayer for the
soul of HIS guest before starting, which,
however, BODIES no great danger to be
faced. The two then bestride a single
horse of wood, that travels like light
ming express down, down, deep into the
under world. i dizzy Tush--a strong
current Of cold air, and they suddenly
stop in a fairy palace of crystal bright
ness. The floor on which they stand,
the columns that support the vaulted
roof far above them. the walls, the lofty
ceilings, are all OF the same wOndrous
Wilderness. Moving about In this mys
terious world are more men in black,
who have leather aprons and in their
caps lighted candles With pick and
shovel they tusily dig and cut the crys.
tai walls about them, ike gnomes or
elves OF the mountain. On every side
are vaulted corridors and dim passages
leading into wonderf chambers, new
and strange in shape and use, but all of
the same transparent substance that
glistens and sparkles in the lights of the
candles and torches like myriads of fash
ing diamonds.
Here are royal ball rooms with orches-
ira gallery, brilliant chandeliers and
floor, of the same lustrous whiteness:
dining-rooms with long tables, chairs,
and sconces for lights, and bed chambers
with couches, all in the same pure mono
tone of coloring. Perhaps the greatest
surprise to the enchanted visitor is the
grand cathedral, with stately columns
and springing arches, with high altar and
magnificent CROSS, organ lott, choir,
inches, pedestlls, statues and crucifixes,
even the figures of kneeling worshipers
everywhere cleaning in the torch-lights
with dazzle of crystalline splendor.
Do yod ask what is this radiant sub
stance of which the fairy world is
wroughtl
The answer is simple.
Salt. Rock salt in the wonderful far
famed mines of Poland, Wielezka by
name.
The picture is not exaggerated. All
that has been said is true, and far more.
Here are stately halls, vast and mag
ni6cent, many of them $50 feet long
and wide. Fancy it Trinity Church
spire is only 200 feet high. There are
chapels, galleries. caves, grottos--all Of
the same material and each beautiful tiny
grain sparkling for itself
After one has wandered till weary, he
will suddenly come upon a grand stair
case cut in the solid rock-crystal, leading
down to another world rs vast and won
derful. There are five stories, one below
the other, and more than thirty miles of
subterranean passages. Four or five of
these are as much as most travellers care
to explore. These chambers and gal
leries have been left in the process OF
cutting out blocks of salt, which has
been going on for more than six hundred
yeaIs-no wonder they are so vast and
grand.
The miners are cheerful, pious people,
who cross themselves devoutly when they
start to descend the frail swinging lad
ders that lead down the shafts for the
workmen. They have cut from the rock
many chapels adorned with images OF
saints, 80 that at every turn one meets 9
statue of solid crystal, so clear and trans
parent that torch held behind it CLEANS
through it with a softened light. When
any image or altar is to be made it ID
roughly outlined in mass OF salt an6
then water poured over it. This dis
solves the outer crust, and when the
water has evaporated it leaves the surface
smooth and sClid.
The miners, who look like pigmies il
the vast chambers, only work during a few
hours-and then come up to the blessed
sunlight. They have helpers in theii
daily labor. the patient horses who draw
the huge blocks Of salt to the foot of th,
shafts these never see the light of day
their lives of sunless toll are spent il
the depths of the earth. Poor, faithful
servants of mans need One wishe
that the Indians hunting grounds OF tn
Great Spirit might await them in tn
hereafter.
In the deepest depths, said to be 80