Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1892-09-14
A MINERS STORY.

/
ing, than ever get talked on in the
newspapers, or have books written
about them after they are dead and
gone.
All the same, I've never been able
to make up my mind as to whether
one man I've known was hero
or not. Maybe I'm a heavy kind
O. chap, and things don't strike me
so clear as they do others; but if
tell you the story just as it happen
ed, you can put what reading you
like OH it.
was miner down Staffordshire
way, in England, have been miner
all my life, and reckon I'm likely
to stick to the pick till some ex-
plosion comes along and makes an
end of me.
l worked with a gang in the
Nine Pits Colliery about fifteen
years back, and there was one man
there who hailed from South Wales
as | got pretty friendly with.
I've called him a man." but
don't know if the title comes right
He was more like stunted boy
than a man, and more like some
sort of queer animal than either
He was dwarf. He had a mon
strous large head and shoulders and
pair of little, bowed, twisty legs
no bigger than a child's of nine
years old.
His back was crooked; he had a
lot of hair on his face, as those
Welshmen have, and his eyes had
look in them as | never could get
to the bottom of-they were deep
set in his head, as black and as
bright as a bit of silkstone; and
sometimes there would come cloud
into them and dull them and he
would stare out before him as
stupid as if he was tranced. 1t was
sad look, too, as well as dull, and
| never could make out what he
was thinking of then.
I've said we were pretty friendly,
but l don't know as l was anything
more than civil to him. | have
always been cautious with them
dwarfs, for, though he seemed
gentle enough, / had heard they
could be spiteful and vicious if you
crossed them in any way. He was
clever, as they often are, and could
speak English as well as any of us.
He had been two years and more
at the Nine Pits, and he brought
some money with him when he
come, for he had cottage of his
own and tidy piece of garden,
which was above what the rest of
us had.
You might think that, being so
misshapen and little, he wasn't
much good in coal mine; but ]
can tell you there wasn't a man of
six feet amongst us stronger than
he was. To have seen him swing
his pick would have made you hold
your breath; he went at the work
like steam, and he could walk, you
see, down some of the narrow, low
galleries, where chaps like me
would have to crawl.
| lived along with my father and
sister then. We were precious
poor, and father used to say he hop
ed Hetty would marry some one
able to keep her, and so give us a
lift that way.
Hetty was powerful pretty. I've
seen a sight of women, as you may
suppose, in six and thirty years, but
| have never seen one that could
come near her for good looks.
Bright and light she was as sun
shine, and she had bit of temper,
too, but only what you may call
the froth atop Of jug of cider,
making it all the spicier.
When me and my mate left
work of an evening she would come
along the road to meet us some
times and put her arm through
mine, and talk as gay as bird.
One day a new hand came to the
pit, Jim Mainwood by name.
Not a pleasant name when you
think of the hangman; but a
pleasanter sort to look upon than
Jim you never saw. See him on
Sunday going to chapel, clean and
smart, as straight as pole, with
blue eyes looking so frank and
smiling, and you'd say he looked a
picture.
TT /,