Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1886-07-15

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has been cleared, and within this are a
score or more of houses, where the min
ers live. One day many years ago,
stout, strapping minner named Bill, left
| his wife and babies at his cottage door
for this miners wife was neat and
thrifty soul and had beautified their
house until it was the pride of the
camp-and started for the shaft. In his
great coat pockets he had few slices of
bread and flask of liquor, together with
a piece of meat, in case he met with
any accident while underground.
With his comrades he descended the
lOng-shaft, the end of which reached
way down into the very bowels of the
earth. Hand over hand he climbed
down the first ladder, then down the
next, then the next, and still down an
other, getting deeper and deeper into
the darkness, farther and farther into
the warm blackness of those regions
where the light of the day isnever seen,
down another ladder and still another he
went, until at last he reached the solid
rock and was soon at the farther end of
one of the great tunnels which stretch
out from the base of the shaft like the
legs of spider, so crooked and black
are they. All morning long they
worked until it was almost noon time
and he was just preparing to leave his
work for his luncheon. The lamp on
his glazed hat had burned almost out.
His strong arms were tired with their
hard work and he was not sorry that
the day was half over. He gave one
more stroke with his pick, sinking its
sharp point into the ore and bringing
to his feet small piece which sparkled
and glowed like great black diamond
in the dim rays of his lamp. AS he
stopped over to pick it up he heard a
sound that blanched his brown cheeks,
turned his blood into water and made
his heart stand still---a sound that once
heard is never forgotten-the sound of
a fire damp explosion. 1t was dull
roar, which made the earth tremble as
if with fear. Then there was darkness
an unhealthy, suffocating closeness--
and all was over. With wisdom born
his pocket for his matches, then hastily
extinguishing his lamp threw himself
prone upon his face and waited. Soon
he heard call which was answered by
another call, then another, and he soon
found that there were six live miners
cooped up in this narrow tunnel-for
the explosion had blocked one end
with an unyielding mass of rock in
Egyptian darkness-cooped up there to
starve, or perhaps to suffocate. Shut
out forever from the blessed light of
day, from the free, open air, shut up
there as though they were buried alive
in their coff1ns-with not a single
chance to live. With an instinct more
than reason Bill kept this little piece of
iron in his hand until it was warm and
damp with the sweat of horror before
he discovered that he had it. Then he
put it into his pocket mechanically,
then took it out to throw it away and
then again, unthinkingly, put it back,
as man might idly count his fingers as
he stood upon the gallows.
"How long they sat there dumb
with horror they couldn't tell. The
tunnel, fortunately, was high and the
air they breathed promised to last some
time. put what use was that? 1t only
prolonged their agony, and when they
realized this they swore again. At last
they felt the pangs of hunger and they
ate. At length, tired out with excite
ment, they slept, and thus the hours
passed into days until finally their food,
treasured with the utmost care, had
dwindled into nothing even bite
and, weak with hunger, they dragg-
ed themselves to the lower end of their
grave and laid themselves down to die.
"Finally they heard the faint tapping
of pick. The miners We're coming to
their rescue. At first they could hard
Ivy haIinxyn thnSr pnt fhapa
could be no mistake about it. Louder
grew the noise. Nearer came their
rescuers. At length they could almost
hear their voices. Then for time
these ceased.
"'Oh, the fools!" gasped the prison.
ers in horror. They are going to leave
us now that they are onlya foot away,
and we can't make them know that we
are alive One miner staggered up to
the partition and vainly kicked it,
Then they united their voices in shout.
Then they waited. Poor fools! they
might as well have whispered. Then
they screamed and shouted and cried
and sobbed, but the thick walls of their
grave shut in their cries as they did the
daylight and air. Again the picks were
heard.an again they stopped. Sud-
denly Bill recollected the rock which
lay in his pocket. He drew it!forth and
with all the energy of his fast departing
strength he threw it against the wall.
Then they waited breathlessly. For a
moment there was silence. Then the
picking began again with redoubled
energy. The signal had been heard.
They were saved. With great cry
the dying men dragged themselves
nearer together, threw their grimy
arms around each others necks and
wept for joy. They were safe at last.
Half an hour later the picks We're
through the wall, and that afternoon
the dead were brought to life and the
lost were restored to their families.
IT," added the Weight modestly,
"was made of that piece of iron. That's
my story"
"But how did the master come to get
you? Does he know your story?" Asked
the Knife.
II think he does. It was he who dug
me out. His name is ~ Benjamin
Nort1srope, IN ~ Y Graphic.
One story ofCharles A. Dana is worth
repeating. The incident occurred while
Dana was managing editor of the Trib-
ahae. Howard was officiating as war