St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1902-09-10

~-P~~ ~ ehO pun NuAll WILL UedQ Oh
it; she's a.
And for the first time in his Black
Rock history Abe was stuck for a
word. Some one suggested angel
-" Angel!' repeated Abe, with infinite
contempt. Angel be blowedp 1 para
phrase here. ANGELS amt in the same
month with her. I'd like to see any
BANKED angel swing my team around
them curves without a SILVER
"'Held the lines herself, AbeY asked
a miner.
"That's what said Abe, and then
he went off into fusillade of scientific
profanity expressive of his esteem for
the girl who had swung his team
round the curves, and the miners nod
ded to each other and winked their en-
tire approval Of Abe's performance,
for this was his speciality.
"Very decent fellow, Abe, but his
talk wouldn't print"
Here Craig paused, as if balancing
Abe's virtues and vices.
"Well," I urged, "who is sheW
"Oh, yes" he said, recalling himself.
"She is an Edinburgh young lady; met
Lewis Mavor, young Scotch-English-
man, in London, wealthy, good family
and all that, but fast and going to
pieces at home. His people, who own
large shares in these mines here, as
last resort send him out here to reform.
Curiously innocent ideas those old
country people have Of the reforming
properties of this atmosphere. They
send their young bloods here to re-
form-here In this devils camp ground,
where mans lust is his only law and
when, from sheer monotony, man
must betake himself to the only ex-
element Of the place, that offered by
the saloon. Good people in the east
hold up holy hands Of horror at these
goddess miners, but 1 tell you it's ask
ing these boys a good deal to keep
straight and clean in a place like this.
I take my excitement in fighting the
devil and doing my work generally,
and that gives me enough, but these
poor chaps, hard worked, homeless,
with no break or change-God help
them and me-" And his voice sank
low.
"Well," I persisted, "did Mavor re-
form?"
Again he reused himself.
Reform? Not exactly. In six
months he had broken through all re-
and, mind you, not the miners
fault. Not a miner helped him down.
1t was a sight to make angels weep
when Mrs. Mavor would come to the
saloon door for her husband. Every
miner would vanish. They could not
look upon her shame, and they would
send Mavor forth in charge Of Billy
Breen, a queer little chap who had be-
longed to the MAYORS in some way in
the old country, and between them they
would get him home. How she stood
1t puzzles me to this day, but she never
made any sign, and her courage never
failed. 1t was always a bright, brave,
proud face she held up to the world,
except in church. There it was differ
ent. 1 used to preach my sermons, l
believe, mostly for her-but never so
that she could suspect--as bravely and
as cheerily as could, and as she lis
tened, and especially as she sang-how
e ha 70 Cir in fhncn da rcf-
was no touch Of pride in her face,
though the courage never died out, but
appeal, appeal! I could have cursed
aloud the cause Of her misery or wept
for the pity of it. Before her baby
was born he seemed to pull himself to-
gether, for he was quite mad about
her, and from the day the baby came
talk about miracles!-from that day
he never drank a drop. She gave the
baby over to him, and the baby simply
absorbed him.
"He was new man. He could not
drink whisky and kiss his baby. And
the miners-it was really absurd If 1t
were not so pathetic. 1t was the first
baby in Black Rock, and they used to
crowd MAYORS shop and peep into the
room at the back Of i'll forgot to tell
you that when he lost his position as
manager he opened hardware shop,
for his people chucked him, and he was
too proud to write home for money
just for chance to be asked in to see
the baby. l came upon Nixon standing
at the back of the shop after he had
seen the baby for the first time, Sob
bling hard, and to my question he re-
piled:
cts just like my own
"vou can't understand this, but to
men who have lived so long in the
mountains that they have forgotten
what a baby looks like, who have had
experience of humanity only in its
toughest, foulest form, this little mite,
sweet and clean, was like an angel
fresh from heaven, the one link in all
that black camp that bound them to
what was purest and best in their past.
"And to see the mother and her baby
handle the miners-oh, it was all beau
tiful beyond words! l shall never for
get the shock got one night when |
found Old Ricketts, nursing the baby.
A drunken old beast he was, but there
he was, sitting, sober enough, making
extraordinary faces at the baby, who
was grabbing at his nose and whiskers
and cooling in blissful delight. Poor
Old Ricketts, looked as if he had been
caught stealing and mnttering some