The Washington herald., 1907-11-28
CHAPTER XXvI-Continued.


The regular safe work of day-in and
day-out had gone on so long that il
seemed as IL il would go on forever.
There had been Individual cases. OF
course-falls Of rock on rash or careless
herds. imprisonments Of longer or shorter
duration. owing 20 temporary derange-
ment Of the pumping apparatus. and the
swift rising OF the bottom waters
But in l<irktown. never since the name
Of Incubus or CORN or Romer was
dent. And there need have been none
Tow, save that a certain Ghetto-Serb was
clearing his way. after ms racial manner.
20 a financial throne.
There were stln "A few laggards on the
road-expectant OF fines for their late
hours. A father scolded a couple Of bows
who went along with downcast heads on
either side. The elder walked fast TO
make up time. taking long strides The
boys ran few steps to keep up. Here
and there was an unmarried man. a little
red about the eyes. trudging Stolidly
along with HIS boon companion Of the
night. Their heads ached. but their very
shortcomings had saved their lives.
AS always. up to the very moment when
James Kahn arrived from the pit-b0t-
tom. the black wheels on the tall Incubus
scafolding spun and reversed. The beam
engines danced their awkward dance Ike
elephants in a show Down the deep.
straight shaft the men and boys dipped.
leaving the light and the fields behind
them. Tools clinked. as men packed
closely together shifted the weight from
one shoulder 20 the other Nothing. after
his children. is dearer 10 the good
pitman's soul than his tools. He treats
them well. and IN ali but the most in
stant alarm, carries them with him Wher-
ever he goes Sixteen hundred feet be-
meath the yellow cornfelds-siXteen hun
dred feet beneath Mr. Kahn's Caravan
serai.' and yet farther beneath the
foundations Of high-perched CORN Castle.
lay the workings. branched and tunneled
and duplicated. whore an hour before the
earliest picks had begun 10 play their
merry tune-the tune that meant work
and wages 20 the brick rows Of Kirktown
The ponyboys brought the wagons
quickly along the dark underground ways
Here and there lamps glmmered and
danced over mounds OF ore or rubbish.
waiting 20 be pitched into yet deeper
wells. or the gloomy unknown inferno
OF the "sump.'
From the abandoned workings away
TO the right, OF which the b0ldest fought
shy. there came faint. faded odors-ratheT
whins than downright smells. Near 10
these. even on ordinary days. the lamp
flame sometimes fOrsOok the center wick
and seemed to cling strangely 10 the
gauZy wire Of the Davy frame.
Few Of the men in that great No. >
pit remembered. as they worked. that
the yellow sunlight OF the autumnal day
dreamed and slept in alternate sunlight
and shadow above them-that above was
the golden grain. and the long shadows
Of the corn stocks. These were things
with which they had nothing to do. They
did not enter into their life or experience.
Even on Sundays they hardly lifted their
eyes to the fields. but preferred TO sit
-on their hunkers' (which is 10 say
"squatting'). their backs to the nearest
convenient tarred fence-the pious among
them with their Testaments on their
knees. and the rest with few packs OF
cards. so dirty that. at first sight. they
seemed 10 be composed exclusively of
aces OF spades.
\ a
of door, or guiding pony. felt a
twinge Of heartache fer the green mead
ows and purple blackberries. the cluster
ing nuts in the CORN wood. where.
sometimes. you had to run from the
keepers. and for the rabbits that dotted
and hoped about the holms of the Glebe
End. But they were soon reminded that
with these, IN this present life at least.
they, no more than their fathers. had
any concern.
For, at sixteen hundred feet below the
blackberry bushes and the reddening
haws. the pit hummed about them like
hive That was their life's work. There
was little enough time for thought
none for regret in the turmoil OF No. =
The doorboys heard the whistle Of the
men running the coal trucks through the
dark passages. and. at the signal. they
threw open their doors. Then. with a
yell. a furry of sparks as the brakes
girded harshly on the rails, and "a fierce
gust Of wind. the long line of laden cars
clocked and jingled through the open
doorway
Sometimes, but not very often. one of
tic men. lying prone upon the ore, would
wave a kindly hand to the lonesome boy,
left there all day by himself in the dark
ness.
And the lights from the lamps in their
hats striking on the dusky roof above,
appeared TO his eyes 10 stream backward
like the red ''skarrOw-hght' OF an en-
gine-s smoke pennon. at nights on the
railway. when the fireman opens his fur
mace door
Suddenly that August day. as the boys
were bringing their first loads OF ore tC
the well Of the Dock. the "bottomer.
/ John Roy. looking upward. saw thick vol
umes Of smoke rolling down the mair
passage Of the incline.
THE pits afirer' was also his cry
instructive quick. and terrible. as tha
which ran sixteen hundred feet above.
| He hastened TO lay his hand on th'
/ little return cage" which had just come
/ in. For. as Kahn went up, swiftly hoisteC
/ into safety, the empty cage, descending
( had passed him on its little loop. midway
where two men were working at tn
| latest coal strike They We're about q
drift. in order 20 catch a seam which
had ''pinched out higher up
John Roy laid his hand on the doc
OF the cage. II also had passed through
the fire. but. as the flames had not ye
! taken a frm hold On that side of tn