The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1883-08-24
A COMMONPLACE HERO.

A COMMONPLACE HERUs
Morning at Erie. A faint breeze is
blowing of the land, that makes only
the lightesU ripples on the surface of the
lake and bay A mile or two out from
the shore few sails are outlined against
the horizon, and the course of pro-
peller so far distant as not to be seen
may still be traced by light line of
smoke. The courthouse clock strikes
four long, lazy strokes, according to it's
deliberate habit, and little later the
keeper of the Presqu' Isle lighthouse at
the entrance of the harbor puts out his
light. He may we'll do so, for the flush
in the east has deepened into flame.
The slender shaft OF the water-tower is
crimson at its summit, and the city
spires one after another are tipped with
fire. Upward comes the sun and down.
ward sinks the glow. The water tower
is a crimson pillar now, the ungainly
elevators at the waters edge look al
most beautiful in the fair light, the trees
on Presqu' Isle are batAed in it, and the
distant sails redden as it touches them.
Still upward comes the sun till the hori-
zon line can no longer conceal it, and
It seems as if it must in a moment more
come rolling in fiery splendor along the
blazing path it has burned across the
water. A small boat from the life
saving station crosses the glowing track,
and red drops flash from the cleaning
oars. And now the whole broad lake
glistens as the sun climbs higher, but
the red glow has gone, the glory has
faded, and another commonplace day
has begun.
A commonplace day to you Or to me;
but never yet did there dawn day that
was not ere its close consecrated by
some act of loyalty to the best emotions
of the human heart You or / may
have watched the splendor of the dawn
ing day from Garrison Hill, and gone
home thrilled with its grandeur, only
to forget few hours later the fine
feelings that have sprung up within us,
the vague aspirations that the sight has
evoked. For us, then, the splendor has
been exchanged for the commonplace.
Frank Gaskell has had no time this
morning for seeing the sunrise from
Garrison Hill, had he wished to do so,
which is quite unlikely. A sewer con-
tractor with large force of laborers in
his employ is not usually man to
whom sunrises appeal in any esthetic
way, or one who INDUCES in vague talk
about the commonplace. And, looking
at Frank Gaskell, you will say he is the
last man of whom anything vague
can be predicated. A tall, well-built
fellow of thirty, only passably good
looking, but with q firm mouth, and
eyes whose angry flash the workmen
under him do not care to encounter.
When he speaks it is in short, nervous
sentences that leave no doubt of his
meaning, Alert, keen and energetic,
he allows no idlers about him, and you
would call him merely pushing, COM
mon-place man, and seek to know no
more of him. AT present he is con-
Quoting the excavations in Poplar street
preparatory to constructing a sewer for
that locality, and very busy this occu-
patton keeps him. Through the middle
of the street for several squares the cut
ing extends, its course marked by two
long lines of sand and gravel. A yawn-
ing chasm twenty or more feet deep it
is, its walls carefully boarded at inter-
walls. Down there in the half darkness
some of Gaskell's men are laboriously
digging, while others are hosting
buckets of earth to the surface and add
ing thus to the height of the yellow
piles on each side of the cutting. 1t is
nine o'clock when Gaskell, after care
full directions to the laborers on the
surface, descends to the bottom of the
excavation to make his daily inspection
of the work there. AS he passes slowly
along his quick glance takes in every
feature of the work. Now he stops to
direct some clumsy workman to use his
spade in less awkward way, and now
he pauses to tap the boarding atvariouS
places to see if it can sustain the pres.
sure of the loosen earth behind it. Sud.
denly he turns about angrily.
Didn't l tell you last night to have
this place right here boarded on botE
sidesF he says to one of the men near.
est to him.
II belive you did," stammers the
man, "but there want no good boards
here then, and Jim Mulligan said hC
would bring some the first thing thi;
morning but he hasn't come yet
Gaskell hardly hears the excuse, hi
is so occupied with his examination O
the walls Of the cutting.
This ought to be boarded for fifty
feet each side," he says, "and it's 90
to be done this morning. Send Ma
haffey here to me at once. He's W
above there by the Sixth street cross
ing;" and the man thus hidden hasten,
away.
The place where Gaskell is now
standing is about midway of tn,
length of the sewer cutting, and be
tween him and the northern end som,
thirty laborers are digging busily
Toward the southern end the excava
ton is shallower, and several ladder
near furnish the means of ascent or de
scent. One of these is about sixty fee
south of Gasken While he is waiting
he surveys the distance between it ant
himself with his eye.
Il don't like the looks of thing
along here,n he says, half aloud. g.
believe I'll have boards put up as fal
as that ladder, anyway he continues
as he walks toward the south.
The men at the northern end ar,
working toward him, deepening til,
cutting in his direction, and while HI
PAGES back and forth dozen or NOR,
of the workmen are rapidly extending
their work toward that part of the ex
cavation.
BE careful how you Jump rounC
there" he calls sharply to some mel
on the surface who are hosting up tn,
earth removed by the shovels of the la
borers below; ''them banks amt non,
too strong, you know. Johnson" h,
says to one Of the men who are peer