The Labor enquirer., 1886-04-03
Yhe Fate of the Worker in the
Arsenic-Laden Bullion
HellS.
How the Poor Man and His Wife
Struggle for Exist
ence,
While the Silver King and Queen Roll
in Luxury and Guzzle Expen-
siTe Wines.
For the Enquirer.

For the Enquirer.
What makes those men so pale and
sickly looking ?" I asked of one of the
who get living by labcring in the lead
and silver smelter, before whose fur
naces l paused one day as 1 passed the
place where colorless-faced men were
standing before huge furnaces, from
which issued the blue smoke and fumes
that come from the lead and arsenic
during their fiery dissolution.
LEAD poisoning" was the laconicE
answer to my question as the man ad;
dressed turned YEARLY away into the
arsenlc-laden air that surrounded the
furnace he was tending"
How long does man last before
these furna ces?"
Depends" said the paleface, ION how
much lead you can stomach"
"Why don't you 90 at something else,
that will not be such sure-death job p
Times are so hard that 1 could not
get another job as good, perhaps, and
besides, man who works from one to
three years here in the smelter is 80
nearly played out that he aint good for
nothing Else as he's 80 full of lead and
arsenic that he can't do very hard work
anv more"
"But you will die if you stick to the
smelter," said I.
We'll, may be so, but I've stood it for
nearly three years, and though l feel
kind of tired and weary,like and can't
eat much, still Pm going to stick to it
couple of years more, for think then I
will have close to $500 saved up and sup
posing should die, the little ones and
their mother would have little for a
rainy day."
Then you are able to save up $1OO a
year," remarked.
"Well, pretty near" said the white
faced smeter as he took from a shelf a
bottle labeled, Lead Antidote," and
swallowed spoonful mechanically, "but
we sme ter men have to buy lots of drugs
and medicines to trv and kill the lead
aud arsenic poison, and that costs
money but Mary insists on working too
and takes in washing and so we can
save nearly 800 year, for you know
we work every day IN the month in the
smeIter, that is, YOU know, if we don't
have to knock off on account of sickne
Heart-sick, l turned away and left this
place where greed and inhumanity are
molding human blood and life into lead
bullion.
Seven days a week, thirty days a
month, 1865 days per year, must this poor
wage slave stand b fore this lead furnace
and breathe into his system a slow but
sure death from the noxious vapors that
are emitted from the molten ore.
The muscles, the blood, the manhood,
the energy, yes the very life Of this pale
faced furnaceman is being melted up
with the ore to make base bullion to
Law as an offering on the altar of the bull
lion king, who lives in his Queen-Anne-
style palace on Capitol hill, surrounded
by such pomp and magnifcence az only
fits the autocrat who can coin human
blood into lead bullion. In the society
doings" Of the papers can be found the
account of a grand and select party"
given blythe bullion queen in midwinter,
where the decorations in the line of
roses alone cost in the hundreds, and rare
wines flowed in Erincely abundance, but
no mention is made of the cost of the
roses of health that have been plucked
from the cheek of the pale, poisoned
furnaceman, whose rare wine" is drawn
from the bottle labeled Lead Antidote."
Says the bullion king: II use no CO.
ercive measures to put the 'palefaced
furnaceman,' over whom you are making
more noise than he does himself, where
he is. If he don't like it he can 90 and
can get plenty who are anxious to take
his place."
You are right, bullion king; you do not
use any coercion in getting slaves but
YOU have an ally, damnable and most
inexorable ally, who does the coercion
act. That ally's name is System. We
snail not kill you, bullion king, but we
will kill YOUR ally and then you will lose
your slaves and your insolence, and if
you have rare wines and rooms strewn
with fragrant roses in midwinter, it will
be because you have EARNED them.
which you don't do now, Governor Grant.
JIG.
By This Shall We Conquer.
From the private letter of California