The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1897-09-19
THE STONE BREAKER.

''Pixies!' whispered to Dolly as the
sweet, faint, musical clink, clink of meeting
iron and stone came ringing down the
sleeps. Then, as Bob had gone out, and
Dolly's baby was safe abed and the har-
vest moon was going higher and whittier.
We crept out and followed the sound. The
house was not more than twenty yards
from the base of the hill, and, in the in
tervals of silence. we heard the night wind
come sweeping down the hollows and the
little hill stream trickling on the rocks.
Then the eerie hammering began again.
and Dolly murmured plaintivey, catching
at my hand I'm afraid" We clambered
up together, where wild clover bloomed in
the crevices and the haws and thorn trees
made great splashes Of black shadow
across the path. In daytime. from the van
tage ground of our own vine-coy-
cred cottage, this same hill had
been only a beautiful bit of Indi-
ana scenery, with its golden and
green embroideries cleaning in the sun
shine, or darkened by the mist and rain
that dashed against its slopes from across
the Ohio river on the south-in either case
kind seduction of eye and mind to higher
levels. But at night, and under the harvest
moon it was fairyland, with every thorn
and locust sapling along the way turned
into menacing guard, and every flicker Of
leaf and shadow thing to make the heart
beat. We had gone probably half way up
the ascent, when suddenly the path opened
out on little grassy level. 1t set like a
terrace to the hill, and except on that side
was entirely hedged in by young trees. SO
that from here the other hills and the
river and the town below, which had but
2 moment before been visible from the
path. We're wholly shut out. Moreover. here
originated the sound which we had fol-
lowed All around the lonely, level plat OF
grass We're small mounds of stone, on ev-
cry one of which sat little figure, pound
ing, pounding, in the moonlight at the
rocks beneath his hands, till every nook
and Granny in the hill gave out an echo
But the pixie myth was spoiled and the
fairy spell was broken-we had only come
upon the children of the rock-breakers.
These creatures of desolation who beat their
living out of the naked stone by the sweat
OF their brows had taken advantage of the
dry full moon and of the cool night air to
pursue the vocation that usually demands
all their effort under an unshaded sum-
mer sun. Here were the fathers Of the con-
tract and their children-the smallest of
them. it seemed to me, hardly larger than
Dolly's baby at home in his crib. though
he staggered in his overalls, and spat upon
the grass, and swung his hammer to the
rocks as gayly as the rest. How cruel TO
that poor little child" said Dolly. as we
reached home that night. But 1 hunted up
the poor little child next day, and found
that far from thinking himself the victim
of cruelty. he would have considered it an
actual punishment to be prevented from
following his father and sharing his daily
labor.
The stone-breakers have been a shifting
class. 1t used to be that hard characters
and men on the chain gang were gotten for
the job. / can remember how. as a small
child, ] used TO stand at a respectful dis
lance md watch for hours a particularly
villainous fellow. with a ball and chain at
tached to his leg. on the occasion OF the
mending of a turnpike in our country
neighborhood. | recall distinctly, even now.
the sullen lines in the mans face and his
dogged ugliness when the overseer. passed.
The simple proximity TO such hardened
desperation was a thrilling experience to
me. But times have changed. II is the low
est bidder for the contract that gets the
job now. But even that method must in
turn, soon give place TO the voracious
crushing machine. Yet the stone-breaker