The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1913-05-06
Copyrighted 1911 by Harper & Bros.o

Moran hesitated rebel1ious1y showing back Farley. his militant Irish temp demanding inne- diate issue. The Italian, with his Old World train ing of inherent submission to authority swung his shovel and bent his work, his hearty goodnatured laugh echoing into the gloom of the rafters.
 Big Mike was the first Italian to be employed in the foundry his job any length of time, and he bid fair stay and break down the preju diced animosity against the Only shortly rived from his native country he was sow to under stand the petty spites and shop sectiona1isn, and persisted blunderingy in his efforts to make friends with his fellow workers. Openly repulsed and drowned upon he ignored the insults, passing them by with the broadness of big, good-natured dispo- sition, while with his prodgious strength he tried to compel friendly recognition by doing the greater part of the gangs work unknowing that he violated the strictest code of the laborer n doing than his share.
 But as dripping water wears into stone the re- peated insults, snubs, and sneers and the of the foundrymen in turning their backs whenever he approached a group gradually bored into his dull intellect. He began to understand that he was not wanted and that, regardless of his of what he might do as long as he stayed they would treat him the
 sWe're tn tn mud in the n1arnn'; git here airly. ordered Farley the corerakers were 1eav- ing that evening; and Mike leaned on his shovel handle watching the three go out together, sense of loneliness in his heart, in his eyes the dull hurt expression of St. Bernard that has been chained for bosterous rorping. < It half-hour later when Mike finished his work and, stripping, plunged into the big water tank, spashing and playing like a schoolboy in summer pool As he climbed out and stood up to dress, the splendid health of his magnificent body glowed in the foundry gloom. ! He was hurnning happily himself he dropped his tirne-check at the gate, when the trnekeeper cursed him for being late, slammed the office window, and hurried up the Mike looked after the young clerk, puzzled expression his face as he wondered what the of his resentment. Glancing slowly over his big hands and body, he shook his head uncompr rehendngly and went his
 Hands deep his trousers pockets, his eyes the sidewalk, he did not look up as he passed Sweeneys saloon; he had forgotten his boast, and did not the gitterng eyes thatlwatched him go by, or know of the preparations that had been made for his recep ton should he dare
 Mike was thinking, trying to fathom the reason that these men had for hating him, when he willing to serve them. What would he not do for them if they would only speak to him, smile and be friends? That night for the time in his life he tossed rest1essly on his bed unable to sleep.
 It after midnight when Farley pressed the button the foundry gate that electric bell in the engine-roon.
 ssIel1o Ke1lyl" baywled Moran's hoarse voice, and the little round-shou1dered watchman hurried out, carrying lantern
 Whats tn matter, b'ys-don't the dago keep yer fires in shape?" ss
 Moran's lurid answer convincing and the old watchman nodded undersandingy he locked the gate after them.
 .eWhy don't tn give us white tn job7 There's Keegan an't hadva days wauri fer month" rasped Farley, thickly
  the watchnan, sadly "Its aisy to that ye bys IT naVrthn' yer fathers before yez. he followed them the foundry his little eyes gtering in the swinging lantern light from the scared mask of his burned face.
 The vehtilators were closed and the air was heavy and dense from the a1ight housing of the fre-gases Moran coughed and, oursing grabbed the lantern the watchnaan and led the way.
 The ne1ancho1ic, breeding silence of the interior like the midnight gloom of graveyard; the men's voices booming hollow among the high steel roof girders, flung back along the big columns in ghost1y whispers.
 sfDon ut," said Farley, coming to a ston and he shivered as glanced s1persttiously about him, "t place gives tn shivers, uts that dom claulnny like"
 "Shut yer gab, with yer ould-country banshee talk" ordered Moran, turning and shaking his fist under Farey's nose and old Kelly chucled himself as he watched uneasy side-sepping corenaker when they skirted the edges of the pits
 On the side wall back of the gangs car-track running the length of the foundry It was set high the wall supported top of the box
 like core-ovens, and held Up between them by trussed steel brackets fastened the foundry wall. sheet steel bos-trucl drawn by endless cable, travelled back and forth the track carrying the mixture for the cores. The big shve-wheels either end of the foundry which the cable passed driven by electric motor, its control being hands of the men who worked the mud mixing machine.
 Were goin' to git tn mud ready fer the narnn' so yer needn't wat,' said Moran the watchnaan, they stopped at the sx-inch gang and lit two coal-o torches.
 The watcfnan did heed the remark but followed them to the mud-rnxer and watched them fill the Then Farley went back to his gang, and Moran climbed the wooden platform threw the switch The motor hun1ed, the big shive-whee canked. and snap the started and rrnbed along the track