Butte semi-weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1886-1890, 1886-12-04

noas nearer ana drownt the drip o. tho u1cx-
ling water, and I cry aHelpl hslpl" mying,
NOW win I call tin I die.n A nlm grows
over my eyes, but my voice istrung and des-
perate - shout, aChristmastidel For
Christ's mke help; good Chfistiaml"
Agreat hght@ fash bf frei For = mo
mnt I deem it death; gazing upward ! zee,
amid q glare Of torches, faces-O they were
angels to me!-eagerf faces peering downward.
And close to me swings q torch, let down into
the depths; its light falls On my haggard
facea great shout rends the night sky.
HE Il herei he il safel-he lvesin
fcazt1ot speak, though my lips move, and
my heart stands still q I see one, two, three
daring men swing themselves over the abyss
miners, used to danger-dad In d moment
stout arms are around me and / am borne
forward, carried gently lihe . child, placed
an instant On my feet, and them laid down
tsnderly On the heath. I am % weary, and
faint, and worn that I Lie with closed eyes,
never striving to say q word OF Thanks
S0o not 20 near the brink, madam, I en-
treat!" Ihear . voice cry sharply. Then
open my aching lids, and between me and the
shaft knee1s q white figure; between me and
the sky thers bends b white face, and tears
fall down Upon my brow fast and warm. II
was my bethrothed, Florian. But even when
she stole her little hand in mine-mine SO
cramped and numbed that it gave no re-
spouse to her tenderness-and even when she
stopped and pressed her lips to my cheek !
could not breathe a word to thank her.
Yet Florian, dear wife, let me- tell thee now
that from the depths of my happy heart
there rose q hymn Of Joy, and I understood
from that moment that thou vert mine, and
I owe my life to thy love.
Then thy sweet lips breathed words that fell
upon my soul like a manna-words Of tender
ness and pity that made the torture Of those
slow hours in the pit fade away, so mighty
did this reward seem for my sufferings.
I was carried to Trevesy, and as the men
bore me along, you walking by my side, I
heard them tell the tale of my servants fright
when my horse returned home alone, and how
they came to your father for tidings Of me.
Then they whispered of the painful search
through the day and night, the tracking Of
my horses hoofs upon the snow, and the
story Of the scared peasant, who all night
long had heard the cry of tortured ghosts
issuing from the earth. And the sad story
seized upon my Florian with deadly fear and
turning back upon the black moor she tracked
the hoof marks until they stopped upon the
brink of the old forgotten shaft, the shaft Of
the worked out mine, well named the Great
Whea1 Mercy.
There / was found and saved by her I had
loved SO long. And, dearest, as I slowly came
back to life that New Years morning and
family whispered to you Of my pent up sol.
row, you, in your great pity, thinking of my
suffering in the shaft, poured out all your
maiden heart. And your loving words, my
Florian, were sweeter to me than ever the
triliing spring had been In the Great Wheal
Mercy.
So in a month you were my wife, and now
I sit by a happy hearth, and looking down on
the happyfaces of wife and child I thank God
for that GROWING mercy-thy love, dear one
which saved me on New Years day from q
dreadful death In the shaft Of the Great
Wheal Mercy.