The Olneyville tribune. (Providence, R.I.) 1893-189?, 1894-01-20
MARIA.

= illiAD1 WV A''A''' ~
gions, he was "a strong, handsome
young fellow Of twcnty-three, with
r~ose-colored views Of this life and
sadly vague ones Of the life TO come
He came from a grassy New England
village, where he had lived a frank,
free, open-air life about as exciting
as a pastoral. He had spent four
years at Columbia College, which had
opened his eyes a bit, and then he
had gone up into big, black Luzerne
County, teeming with two hundred
thousand people, threc-fourths Of
whom would better have been
drowned at their birth like so many
blind kittens, some pessimists
thought.
Words cannot describe the drear
misery of a mining patch in North
eastern Pennsylvania, was an early
conclusion Of young Harris. You
will come across group after group Of
black and dingy cabins, strung along
like grimy hucklcberrics on n straw.
Back Of these looms the breaker"
n gloomy mass Of shadow, blackcned
by wind and storm that have ground
the fine coal-dust into the planking.
Culm-heaps, mountains Of refuse
coal and slate, hide the natural hOri-
ION, and present IA skyline that is
m%onotonous and uninspiring. Through
the hollows, over trcstles crossing the
black swamp-land, out into the
brighter world beyond the hills, crawl
long trains of airs piled high with
g~listening coal.
II was at a cluster of huts i'm Il val
ley like this that Harris was stationed.
He had "a room in nm ungainly red
frame structure where ham and eggs
and raisin pie were the staple articles
Of diet, and which was endurable to
him only because two-thirds of his
time was spent beyond its pale. The
name of this understudy for purga-
tory was the Mountain Glen Hotel,
and il was presided over by onc Mrs.
Dwyer. OF course, he had 10 friends
there. There was nc m to interest
him, and he had not yet learned to
interest himself i'm common, every
day people, whom We often find TO be
uncommon and unique when we have
once discovered the secret Of really
knowing. The whole world seemed
dismally ordinary to Harris. Conse-
quently, when he looked out Of the
window of his soapy, pinc-loored
clearinghouse one evening, a few
weeks after his arrival, and saw II
slender female figure with n face that
was moderately clean and immodcr-
ately pretty, he felt that he had
made a discovery of some import
ance. In Difference TO the sum
mer's Columbian craze, he called
that window for some time the
lookout from the Pinta. The girl
was Maria Mah-ree-ah, if you pleasc)
di Manicor, and the trimming pail OF
water she was bringing from the well
did not monopolize her attention.
She saw Harris.
AT Columbia, Harris had learned
how to look through IA transit-if that
is the proper cXpression-and, upon
provocation, could talk about back
sights and ''vernicr' with the mir OF
a master. From this il will be gath
cred that Harris was a surveyor. He
was more-he was Il mining engineer
and had two letters tackled TO his
name TO signify his prowess. Every
morning he went into the mines, and,
with the aid of n small Welsh boy
and a big Hungarian laborcr, he
would perform prodigies Of engineer
ing skill which the layman will not
attempt TO detail. In the evening he
would stroll among the culm-hcaps
and along the banks Of the black,
sulphurous stream of miuc-watcr that
flowed through the swamp-land on
the outskirts of the village. Poor
little stream 1t was not much like
his babbling New England brooks.
1t could not have babbled il il had
tried. 1t could only muttcr or yowl.
For three weeks Harris took these
walks alone. Then he took them with
Maria di Manicor. Then n.y story
begins.
Harris could hardly have told how
his acquaintance with Maria began.
First a word or two at the village
pump, when she went to draw water
then he came across her once or
twice on his solitary evening strollS,
until finally it was no longer once or
twice; il was no longer n word ortwo.
IL was every evening, and they would
wander through the swamp for hours,
These. walks had to be accomplished
circumspectly. Harris and Maria
would start out separately and would
return separately, but somehow OF
other they always managed to meet
when well out Of the village and be
yond the peering power Of curiou,
eyes.
Harris was a good young fellow
as goodness goes, nowadays. IL die
not occur TO him that there was any
thing inconsistent in his going {,
Hazelton 10 mail a letter TO a girl IL
Keene, New Hampshire, and at tn,