Los Angeles herald., 1892-03-08
A DAY IN A BOILER.
AN ENcINEERs TERRIBLE SABBATH
DAY EXPERIENCE.

DAY EXPERIENCE.
Engineer Risley Went Into the Boiler
to Make Some Repairs-Got Fastened
and Spent Nearly Day Expecting
That the Fire Would be Lighted.
Sunday morning Engineer E. w. Ris-
lev crawled into boiler. Sunday night
he crawled out. It was bright, active
man that entered the grim mouth of the
big iron cylinder. It was feeble.
broken, nerveless creature that emerged
to light again after an experience such
as turns mems hair gray in an hour and
skaters their constitutions for life. That
Mr.. Risley is alive today is due both to
his presence of mind and the endurance
of his sinewy frame. Death had stared
him in the face for hours that seemed
like interminable days to him.
Mr.. Risley is employed as engineer in
the factory of Nathan Drucker s. Co.,
trunk and valise manufacturers. Sun
day the establishment was solitary. and
Mr.. Risley took advantage of the oppor-
tunity to clean out the big boiler in the
basement He went alone. He usually
took candle into the boiler, but could
find none on this morning, and he lit O
lamp, which he placed in such position
that its bright rays fickered down
through the gloomy flues under which
he was to pass.
Opening the manhole in the end, Mr..
Risley had soon wormed his way to the
farthest end Of the passage into which
he ventured. Water was standing
several inches deep in the bottom of the
boiler, having dripped down from above,
and the engineer was chilled to the bone.
But he cared little for that excepting to
remain but few minutes. He finished
his work and started to return. It. oc-
Cured to him that he might avoid the
icy water better if he turned around and
sought egress head first.
Narrow as the passage was, he had
accomplished this feat more than once
before and he anticipated no difficulty in
repeating it. Slowly he turned, closing
his limbs together like the blades of a
knife and bringing his knees against his
chin. He succeeded in turning half way
around when he found that he could go
no farther.
FASTENED IN THE BOILER.
Mr.. Risley made vigorous efforts to
complete the turn, but in vain. Then
he concluded to resume his original po-
sition and back out, but to his horror he
found that he could not move. He had
become fixed in the strained position he
occupied, and his attempts to move only
made matters worse. For quarter of
an hour the engineer worked to free
himself, while the perspiration poured
from him in spite of the chill the
water had produced. Then the awful
reality Of his predicament dawned upon
him for tho first time and almost drove
his senses away. He was fastened, with
out hope Of freedom, in space hardly
large enough for his body.
The pitiless iron bore down on his
head above and seemed to be acquir-.
ing the weight Of a Thousand hundred
weight. The faint CLEAN of the lamp
above illuminated the darkness Of the
engine room and the blaclxer night of
the boilers interior. His position forced
the blood to his bent head. Mr.. Risley
did not know how long he could stand
the strain. Before the morning, how
ever, when the factory would resume it's
life, he would be unconscious and the
manhole would be shut, the fires lighted
and he would awake, il he awoke at all,
to be roasted alive before it would be
possible to extricate him.
Filled with the horror of his position,
the engineer shouted for help, but his
voice was smothered in the depths of his
prison. He found, too, that he could not
exercise his vocal powers with effect, as
his chest was pressed against his knees
so tightly that he could hardly breathe.
A FORTUNATE RELEASE.
Mr.. Risley collected his senses and re-
solved to husband his strength, and,
above all, to keep cool. He knew that
to remain where he was until the next
day, cramped in the icy water, would be
fatal, and he went to work carefully to
extricate himself.
No words could describe the suffer-
ings of Mr.. Risley during that Sabbath.
Noon came, and he thought it must al
ready be night. Then the long, long
afternoon. The lamp paled, and with
final splutter went out altogether. The
captive felt himself growing weaker.
His body was half frozen as it lay in the
water. He had spent the long hours in
desperate attempts at freedom, alter
mated by long periods of despairing rest.
Thoughts Of his wife and three little chill
dren came to his frenzied brain. The
hues seemed pressing slowly upon him
on all sides, like the famous ''iron bride"
Of the days Of torture.
After nightfall, by some happy chance,
the engineer unlocked his cramped limbs.
How he did it he does not know. Half
crazed by his terrible experience, he
struggled madly for escape. Reaching
the air outside he sank to the ground
and lay exhausted for an hour before he
was able to go home.-Cincinnati Cor.
Chicago Herald.
Be Careful Of Geography.
When you are writing novel don't
get your geographical facts so badly