The Winslow mail., 1901-02-21
: STORY OF A STRIKE
( BY Mrs. Charles C. Marble. :
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TT WAS a desolate scene as 1 wan
dered among the pitfalls and aban-
ooned workings of the Beaver Mead
ow coal mines. In hollow of an old
and useless stripping lay tons of slaty
waste, among which cleaned bits of
coal here and there. The mineral
had long gone it's way to the market,
and only the refuse remained; but
even these bits the poor about the
district were forbidden by the owners
to CLEAN.
The winter had been a severe one,
and the coal-handlers' strike for few
pence more day had augmented the
sufferings of the poor, not only in and
about the great city, but extending
out to the coal regions as we'll; for the
barons had shut down, and was not
coal as dear for the miners as for the
rich?
The place looked deserted and dreary
enough, but walked on, musing over
the fate which doomed the generality
of men to toll and poverty, when sud-
denly the figure of child arose from
one of the heaps and stood before me,
trembling in every limb, and piteous,
scared, expression upon his wan,
pinched little face.
Don't be alarmed" said, touched
by his evident fear; 81 wouldn't harm
YOU"
Bent you come to arrest me for
pickin' up the coal?" he inquired, fall
teringly; didn't the masters send
ye?'
At his feet 1 now spied a pail half
full of the precious stuff.
1--WE hain't got no fire." he said,
grasping the pail with his little blue,
half-frozen fingers, "and poor granny
has been shiverin' and moanin' and
huggin' the baby awful close, sir. She
thinks that keeps it warm, you know"
A wan smile fitted over his face as
he said it, but something in his tone
brought lump to my throat
"And what is your name?" l next in
quired.
Jenny, sir"
"And your father-where is hep"
II dunno" answered the boy.
"Dead?" 1 queried.
"Mebbe. I dunno"
"And your mother?"
His little lip quivered.
Mother went to work afore day.
light, sir. She goes out a-washin' and
scrubbin' when she can git it. Well
have some supper when she gifts home
granny and me will, and I'll have a
fire, cause you know motherll be
awful cold and tired
"Well," 1 said, struggling with nv
> emotion, "let us fill the pail, and I will
carry it,"
1t was soon done, and before long we
stood upon the threshold of a miserable
shanty which the boy called "home."
He hesitated a moment before open
ing the door.
You bent one of the masters now.
be YEP" he asked, solemnly.
"God forbid" l answered, as seri-
ously.
"And ye amt come to turn US out
o. the cabin?"
"Never fear" 1 smiled; 81 come as a
friend, not an enemy"
For answer he opened the door.
Home! A carpetless floor. bed, n
chair or two, fireless stove.
Covering close to the latter sat an
old woman grooming to a babe which
she held in her arms, swathed in rags.
Lie still, my BARN. she murmured,
startled by the opening of the door;
lie still-the masters shall nae touch
We, never fear"
Oh! those hollow cheeks, those trem-
bling hands. those struggling locks,
that bent, shivering form.
She gased at me curiously at first.
with vacant, dazed-like stare, then
a shudder shook her frame.
BE ye one O. the masters" she in
quired, in husky voice.
No" replied, smiling; "no."
II maun a-knowed it, she said, with
a nod, "The dell ne'er cooms a-smilin',
an-and-" here her voice fell to whis-
per-"the barons are all sold to the
deil-cid ye know that?''