The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1890-01-11

permanently with the sprecing miner
and the miner nice in his domestic econ
omy and particular about his food soor
became tired Of "A companion who never
aired his blankets and didn't care wheth
er his bread was light or heavy, sweet OF
sour, Trudciu9 TO our cabins, we pick
up the dried twigs in our path. These
are To kindlc the dinner fire Dinner l.
very much like breakfast, beef or bacon
bread, tea, dried apple sauce. The boot.
are kicked off and thumped into a cor
ncr. The temperature is up TO thai
notch that induces perspiration without
any eXcrtion at all, and the ugly little
stove makes it hotter still.
We sit down to the noon meal IN 9
melting condition, and rise from it il
the same state. Dinner is eaten, the
incoming" is over, back again to the
claim, turn on the water, pick, shovel
scrape, pry, toss back powders and PROF
up sluices slipped from their supports
Between and o'clock snowy white
cloud rises over a distant peak to the
eastward. 1t seems like a great bank OF
snow against the blue sky, and the
longer we look at it the farther we seen
to peer into its translucent, clear-whitC
depths 1t rises over that peak at almost
the same hour every afternoon, and l.
almost of the same shape. 1t is the con
dcnsed vapor of the snow melting on
the higher Sierra SUBMITS, eightysiN
miles distant 1t is imposing in it,
silent imperceptible rising, its wonderful
yhitencss, its majesty, its distance. 1t
seems a fit bed of snowy splendor for
fairies or some sort of ethereal beings to
bask and revel in. 1t seems to be look
ing down, half in scorn, half in pity, at
us four weary, miserable worms of the
dust, feebly pecking at bit of mother
earth, muddy, wet, and feebly squirm-
ing in and about this bank of dirt.
At o'clock there are longer pauses in
our labors. There is more leaning on
shovcls and more frequent glances at
our timepiece, the sun, as he sinks in
.he western heavens. The shadow of
.he hill opposite creeps slowly down its
jide. Ii is a cool, welcome shadow. The
strongest worker secretly welcomes it,,
Though he be "horse of n man, his
muscles all feel the effects of the long
days labor. 1t is more his strong will
than his body which keeps him swing
ing the pick. We are in duty bound
to work till o'clock Everybody works
till 6 o'clock. Everybody is more or
less tired at o'clock, but it is not the
capacity of the body for labor that fixes
the time. 1t is custom, stupid Gus.
tom. The gauge is the limit of physical
strength, not for the weakest, but tho
strongest. The great, brawny armed,
big boned Hercules of our company
doesn't feel it much. He may walk
three miles after supper to the bar store,
play cards and drink whiskey till 8
o'clock, and then walk back again and
be up fresh for work next morning by
$50 o'clock. This is 1860.
In 1870 he showed it, however, and in
the marks of age was ten years ahead of
his time. You can't keep up this sort of
thing-digging, Juggling, lifting, wet to
the skin day after day, summer and win
ter, with no interval of rest, but steady
drag twelve months of the year-without
paying for it. There's dissipation in the
use of muscle as well as in the use of
whisky. Every old miner knows it now
and feels it. Don't you? How does the
muscle of 40 years in 1889 compare with
that of % years in 1862? OF course, man
must live by the sweat of his brow or the
sweat of bis brain, but many of you
sweat too long in those days, and hear
you all saying, That's SOP Start anew
the fire in the little stove; thump the
wet boots in the corner; drag yourself
down to the spring a few hundred yards
distant for pail of fresh water; hack a
few more chips from the dried stump;
mix some flour, water and yeast powder
for the days baking; sit down a minute
on your flour barrel chair and look on
your earthly possessions. The worn and
SCARED trunk you brought years ago
from the states; it holds your best suit of
Il forgotten fashion, two or three white
shirts, bundle of letters from home, a
few photographs, n Bible not worn out
with use, a quartz crystal, "A few gold
specimens" a tarantulas nest, the tail
of rattlcsnake and six vests. Do you
remember how vests would accumulate
in the mines? Pants, coat, everything
else would wear out-vests never.