Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-05-10

to wait little time to prove. With the
bright hopefulness of his nature, he
imagined that because the threatened
the feared blow had not fsllen at once on
his resuming work, it would not fall
at all.
A week and day or two spent them
selves in the old fashion, and pay day
oame-rhe first since the strike ended.
Then the blow fell, and falling as it did,
at en- unexpected moment, its force was
all the greater.
When Mark received his wages on Sat-
urday afternoon, he received also writ
ten notice to quit Richard Harwood IS
employ in seven days. The lad s comelY
face grew very white when the full i'm
port of the note was realized, and his
heart gave great bound. But he ut
tered no word of complaint, he only
clenohed his teeth firmly, and drew
deep breath through his distended, quiY-
ering nostrils.
No steady honest, capable workman
likes to be discharged. The act carries
a stigma with it which every clever
craftsman desires above all things to
avoid, and Mark had certainly done
nothing, or omitted TO do anything within
the mill which would justify his dis
missal.
OF course he knew why notice had
been given him. His letters to the in
spector, and the local newspaper, and
the prominent part he had afterwards
played in the strike explained it all.
Richard HARDWOOD had translated his
threats into blow, and the only way in
which the mill owner could strike him,
was to expel him from his employment.
With a serious face and some what
troubled heart, Mark hurried from the
pay office to join his sweetheart who he
knew would be waiting for him outside.
He found Nellie, and as they walked
home together he told her the bad news.
"NeVer mind, Mark, ~ the girl replied
brayely, ''there are more places in the
world. And if old Harwood has stopped
you here, he cannot prevent you getting
work at some other mill.
Her CHEEKY words chased away the
shadow from his face If they did not
drive all feelings of fear from out of his
mind. But with the sweet, fair lass at
his side, it was impossible to feel cast
down or to magnify and dwell upon what
after all might prove only trifing and
temporary trouble.
When Mark returned TO work the fol-
lowing Monday morning, he had both the
common sense and the courage to go
straight to the manager, Tom Rayner,
and demand the reason of his dismissal.
'Well, - the manager said, somewhat
confusedly, 81 suppose you haven't
given satisfaction. I'm sorry, lad. It's
none of my doings. l got the word, and
1 had to do it. -
"I underestimate was all the retort
Mark made, and he went to his work,
assured that Tom Rayner was blameless,
as he had asserted, and that Richard
HARDWOOD alone was responsible.
That last week Eliot labored at the
mill passed quietly, uneventfully away,
and no sooner was 1t spent than he set
about finding, or rather attempting to
find employment elsewhere. But he
soon discovered he had no easy task be-
fore him. Mill after mill in Warning
ham he visited; manager after manager
he saw, but none offered him the work
he sought.
Sometimes his applications were re-
jected with expressions of insult; oeca-
sionallY the better hearted sort of factory
managers appeared to be sorry that they
could not employ him, but his overtures
invariably ended In failure.
Having visited every mill in the town |
with no more success. Town after town |
he tramped to, sore-footed and heavy |
hearted, continually repeating his appll-
cation for work wherever he could find
cotton factory and being continually re-
fused.
By this time Mark was thoroughly dis
traoted by his unsuccessful wandering in |
quest of work. The truth could no longer
be avoided. He was a marked man.
Richard Harwood had warned all his |
brother cotton spinners against him, and |
it was useless to carry on the bitter
struggle any longer.
a suspicion of this sort had haunted
him from the very beginning. but he had
refused to believe that such thing
could be possible. But he was forced to
accept that conclusion at last, when he
had been refused employment at every
cotton factory in the shire.
And now, for the first time in his life,
Mark Eliot realized to the full all the |
bitterness and truth those burning words
If Burns contain;
See yonder poor Ger labored wight,
So AFFECT, mean, and vile,
Who begs brother OF the earth,
To give him leave to toll.
And see hi lordly fellow worn,
His poor petition spurn.
cit is useless, Nellie, to fight any
urther against such oddsI' he CRIED de-
pairingly to his sweetheart one evening
Vhen they were out together. al see
nothing before me now but leaving the
-
''But where can you go, Mark?"
he asked, tremblingly, tenderly.
ITO Americal'' he replied ''There
! man has free scope, and he is not trod
lpon if he opens his mouth. A month
II so before came to Warringham an
I'D friend of mine went to the States. If
could hear from him [ would join him
herei"
"'Do not think of going yet, dear!"
he pleaded, pitiful break in her voice.
Wait little longer, Mark. Something
nay turn up soon.
He only bit his lips in respose to her
rave words. His heart was sick al
eady with hope deferred. He had waited
nd prayed in vain, so long that sill hope
4 brighter and better days had van
she'd.
The thought of leaving his darling and
DING to the United states afforded him
20 pleasure. To part from her he loved
o well was as bitter as death. But it
Tas all that was left to do, for even if he
ought work outside Lancashire the
nmity of Harwood might follow him