Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-03-15

roof of the weaving shed was becoming
somewhat dim. In week or 30 II Woulo
be necessary to light up the place with
gas, which was turned of during the
months of summer and early autumn.
Far and wide, on each side or Meme
Pemberton, stretched the long lines OF
looms; hither and thither about them
bent the busy, deft-f fingered weaVers; to
and fro sped the "'tenters' up and
down the alleys, fetching "cops' from
the warehouse; there was an operative
| ducking her head to escape flying shut
tie; here one of the "tacklers mendlng
a broken loom, and above all the work
and hustle rang the deep thunderous
boom of the weaving machines, the sep
arate rattle of each shuttle and loom be-
ing quite drowned in the general roar.
Morn, noon and night, that sonorous
unending roar accompanied the weaVers.
1t arose in the morn when their work
began. and ceased for a space at break
FAST and dinner when they rested and re-
freshed themselves; then it rung again
all the afternoon and slept not until they
| finished work and went home.
1t was O'Clock now, and in half an
hour more the deep boom of the looms
would suddenly end, and the workers
would don bonnet and shawl, and with
cans and baskets in their hands pour
themselves in a thick stream out of the
! weaving shed and the adjoining mills.
| Nellie Pemberton was speaking to her
| tenter bidding the girl to go to the ware
| house for a basket of fresh cops, when
| there was loud snap, as of something
! breaking, and one of the looms came to
sudden stop.
''Run to Ben Thomas - Nellie cried
| to her assistant as she took in at a glance
what had happened, can tell him to
| cum heer at once, as one o. may looms
has broken deawn. Be sheyrp, Nan,
that's good wench.'
The lass darted away on her errand,
and Nellie turned her attention TO the
| three looms which were still running.
Presently little Nanny Williams re-
turned, bringing with her tackler to
mend the deranged machine.
But it was not Ben Thomas who
came, it was Mark Eliot, and look of
surprise filled the faces of Nellie and
the new tackler when their eyes met.
And for one breathless, soul-stirring
moment they faced each other, totally
unconscious of the looms that ratified
about them; of the weavers and tenters
who lowered near; of the deep booming
murmur which enveloped them.
They were conscious at that supreme
point OF only themselves and of some
thing that had suddenly sprung to life in
their breasts. They gazed into each
others eyes with a stirring Of the heart,
a quickening of the pulses, such as
neither had known before that time.
Then their gaze fell from each other,
and they came back to the world of
every day life. In an agitated voice,
Morlr oclyod without q pipl
beside him:
''What's the matter?''
She pointed to the silent and motionless
loom in reply, and then turned to her
loom; he also turned and began to ex-
anime the loom.
Suddenly, as if by magic, the thunder
Gus hum of the army of looms sank to
whisper and then ceased altogether. In
amaze the weavers and tenters glanced
at one another across their looms, asking
what did the stoppage mean, for it was
still nearly half an hour from stopping
time.
Presently an explanation was forth |
coming, for ere the looms had been silent |
half minute there rang upon the still /
air such q fearful shout of terror as only I!
half hundred females, half craZed with |
fright, can raise.
which suddenly arose from that end of |
the weaving shed near the doorway, and !
swift as a lightning flash the peal of fear |
rolled from one end of the long, low |
building to the other, and there was a |
wild rush made by everyone to get out |
side.
Shrieking, praying and gestioulating, |
the excited women ran towards the door |
way, knocking one another down in the /
narrow alleys, as they pushed, strug- |
gled, fought even, to get out first.
Nellie Pemberton was almost as fright |
ened as the majority of her workmates, |
and she was about to join them in their .
mad rush for the open air when Mark
Eliot stepped forward and seized her by
the arm.
FDon t rush after them!' he cried,
holding her back with gentle force.
'See how they are tramping one another
IN their fright. The shed isn't on fire..
see, and there is no danger. 1t must be
one of the mills. -
In minute or so the terrified stream
of weavers and tenters had poured them
selves out of the weaving shed INTO the
factory yard, and then the cause of the
sudden alarm was manifest.
There close by them was one of the
largest of HARDWOOD IS mills on fire. Out
of the half-opened windows of the fourth
story great bundles of yellow smoke
came rolling, and now and again there
was seen great flash of lame.
The scene the factory yard presented
at this moment was of the widest kind.
From out the whole of the three mills
the excited men and women, lads and
lasses, came streaming, cursing, scream
ing, praying in the madness of fear.
Presently the cry went up from the
crowd, care they all out of the mill?''
''Can't the fire be put out?'' And just
at this point Richard HARDWOOD rushed
upon the scene.
"Get out of the way, you women,''
he cried. "And you men run to the en-
CINE house for buckets. This way after
me, men, and we III soon have it out. -
A score of men sprang toward the en-
CINE house, and another score followed
at the mill-owner's heels, as he rushed
toward that part of the mill which was
on fire.
And still the big bundles of smoke
came putting out of the windows, and
now and again great tongues of flame