The Bellefontaine Republican. [volume] (Bellefontaine, Logan County, Ohio) 1855-1905, 1899-01-27
OLD R0FFEY'S PENSION

ULD RUtttY'SPENSIUN
hOLD ROFFEY" had been pen
stoned for nearly a week and was
miserably trying to convince himself
that he was happy. Everybody told
him that he ought to think himself in
luck, and he did not gainsay them. AS
q matter of fact, it was just what he
had wanted for 20 years or more-not
the pension, exactly, but the rest.
Leaving out the three weeks of the
strike, the month that he was in the
hospital after the cam flask exploded,
and the two weeks that he had laid off
when he got married "Old Roffey"
could count the days that he had been
absent from the foundry on the fingers
of his toil-worn and grimed right hand.
Now he was going to take ten, Is, per
haps 20 years of care-free leisure be-
fore they stretched out his old limbs
for the final repose. Two dollars a
day for Is years-a dollar day more
than he got when he first went to work
for old Langley in Pittsburgh-and not
stroke to do for it! There was moth
ing small about the young man, "Old
Roffey" thought, as he sat and
watched his stout, middle-aged daugh-
ter washing up the breakfast dishes.
But he felt uncomfortable about it aft
er all.
"Old Roffey" was 65 years old, and
good man yet, he had supposed There
had been times lately, 1t was true, that
he had felt rather muddle headed over
his work, and the new foreman had
complained about the patterns-there
had been some miscalculation Of the
linear dilation on batch Of car wheels
and the whole casting had to bebroken
up-but for all that there was not a
man about the place that knew as he
did every stick of seasoned timber in
the loft, every dust-covered draught in
the roll cupboard, every tool, chisel and
gouge, auger and drill, jig saw and
lathe. The possibility that there would
come a time in his life when another
man would take his place in the old
pattern-room had never occurred to
him.
"What are you studyin' about, IA
ther?" asked his daughter, wringing her
dishcloth, and fitting the pan into the
sink. "You amt gettin' tired O. doin'
nothin' a'ready?"
"Oh, nothin', nothin'," he replied, fret
fully. 81 aint studyin' about nothin' in
L >rrf ho
PERI"
He took the breakfast-stained sheets
that she gave him, and, sliding his
| spectacles down from his bald forehead
| to his nose, tried to read. Usually he
had taken a keen delight in looking over
the news; the only trouble was that
| he seldom had time to read all he want
ed to. But this morning he seemed un-
| able to interest himself. He felt that
there was plenty of time to go through
the whole thing from the first front
| page headline to the last advertisement,
and there was no joy in it. His thoughts
would stray away from the peace COM
mission and the Philippines every few
minutes and go wandering off to the
foundry. His daughter had gone up
stairs, and strange sort of silence
had come over the place, through which
he could hear the high-pitched voices
of the peddlers crying their wares in
the street and the ticking of the walnut
cased clock on the mantel shelf. The
clock, as he looked at it, struck nine,
and as he counted the slow strokes he
was filled with vague, undefinable ap-
IFprehension. Nine o'clock, and here he
was sitting in rocking chair at home
and reading the paper! He wondered
what the time-keeper in his little Office
box at the door thought about it.
Not much, perhaps. "Old Roffey''
remembered that he had thought little
of the old crew as one by one they
had left the rambling, smoke-blackened
place to return no more. Langley he
had missed most of all, and next to
him Big Nels, who used to tap the Gu
pola; but there was always the roar of
the blast, the clank and clatter of the
| crane chains, the rumble of the cleaner
and the tapping of the busy hammers.
He had missed neither Of them, to tell
the truth, so much as the old fan belt.
That was part of the place. One foun-
dry man, molder or helper, looked and
la bored and swore much like another,
but it was a year before the new belt
acquired the glossy blackness and the
soft tapping sound of the old one. 1t
had been one of the boy Roffey's first
tasks to stand beside that old belt and
throw resin on it and tap it with a
stick to keep it on the pulley, and it
was with pang of regret that he saw
the stiff, creaking new one thrown over
the shaft and laced up while his old
friend was pitched aside in limp, use
less heap. He had been thrown aside,
too. Not contemptuously, however.
There was comfort in that.
| William-"Old Roffey" always called
the boss William, as he had a good
right to do, seeing that he had
held William in his arms the first time
he was ever inside of foundry-Wil-
| liam came to him one afternoon as he
was pushing a fat pattern in and out
under the jig saw, and, throwing off
the lever. told him that he wanted to
have talk with him. They sat down on
the bench, and William picked up a
pair of compasses and dug the points
into the bench as he spoke. He told
"Old Roffey" that he thought the lat
ter had worked about long enough and
was entitled to rest after his years