Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1913-11-01

| Clarence OhFroWS rhmVuS Amcrh
organized Labor.
the hundred steps to the breakers
| top. Here the cars of coal were
raised In an elevator and then
dumped into a chute and went slid
Ing and scattering down through a
myriad of sleeves and troughs, through
turning wheels and the jaws of the
great iron rolls which crushed the
| large Jumps into little blocks; on
down, down, down-until it landed in
the huge iron pocket at the back Of
the breaker, twenty feet from the
ground and just above the railroad
| tracks. ready for gate to be opebed
to be let into the waiting car.
All the way down these long slant
ing chutes the Jumps of coal tumbled
and slid and fell, the clatter and
shuttle of the endless rushing black
stone over the sheet iron lining of
the long trough drowned even the
sound of the whirling machinery and
the crunching of the mighty iron
teeth that ground the large blocks
into little bits. while above all an
| overhanging cloud of dust from the
sliding coal covered the black build
ing and the black young children
| with an everlasting pail.
Over the top of the slanting chutes
was nailed row of little planks like
wide steps on mighty ladder. John
ny was told to sit on one of these
little planks and put foot on each
side of the chute and then as the
Jumps of coal ran swiftly down be-
| tween his legs to snatch out the
pieces of slate as fast as his hands
xxr
them into another pitching trough
at his side. From the top of the
great breaker down almost to the
bottom sat this stairway OF little
boys, each grabbing at chunk of
slate us the coal rushed madly by
until it passed the last boy and tum-
bled clean and free from slate into
the iron pockets above the tracks.
1t took Johnny but little time to
become a breaker boy. He had only
to learn the difference between slate
and coal and he had known this from
child. True, ii took some skill to
snatch the stone from the madly rush
ing black flood covered with its dense
black cloud of dust; but little eyes
are sharp, and little fingers are MIN
bic, and it was really remarkable to
see how this long line of little hands
WOulu untII1u6ly bIdSp tilC SldtS eiiiel
let the coal pass by. The rich man
who owned the breaker, whose name
was Fox, used sometimes to stand
and watch these little hands, lost in
admiration of their dexterity and
skill: their rapid movements and ma
chine like precision seemed to him
the beauty and rythym of poem of
perfect meter.
Mr.. Fox had daughter whom he
dearly loved. He fancied that she
had musical talent. and he found her
the most slxilful teacher that money
could procure. Sometimes he stood
by the piano and watched the girl
take lessons in finger development.
and he marveled at her dexterity and
skill: but when he paused for a few
moments beside the great long chutes
and saw the black diamonds rushing
down into his great iron pockets, and
watched the little deft hands of the
breaker boys, he could not help think
| ing that the piano was not the only
place to develop finger movement.
Still. that was about all he thought.
MIR. Fox was not bad man. He was
really good. He loved his daughter
and he intended to send her to Paris
and Vienna to complete her studies
when she was old enough, and, really,
/ every lump VI COdt eldI IOiou NoWAl
the chutes proved how fondly he loved
| the girl
| In a few weeks Johnny was a full
| fledged breaker boy. His mother
woke him at in the morning. He
D.. on his Oldest clothes, ate his
breakfast and went to the breaker.
Morning after morning he climbed
the long flight of stairs to the top
of the breaker. Morning after morn
| ing he went down the ladder until he
found his little flat seat. nailed across
the chute. Then he sat down on the
rough board, placed one foot on each
| side of the trough, and waited for the
| food Of coal to come rafting down.
In front of him and behind him and
! at the side of him were other little
bovs. covered with the same black
pail that ever hung above his head.
! No one spoke, or looked up in the
gloom; they simply picked, picked,
picked. while the black flood moved
down. The constant STOPPING made
/ his back lame and sore And often
in the night his mother was awak-
ened with his crying and left her bed
to rub his little back. Then, too, in
the winter. when the frost was in the
air and on the black Jumps, his hands
grew numb and cold and he felt that
/ he picked the coal with wooden
prongs instead of flesh and blood. The
nails of his fingers We're worn; often
he bound them with rags to protect
them from the cold. or to save some
bleeding wound made by the quickly
rushing coal. His face was always as
black as the coal that tumbled down
/ the chute and the dust filed his nose
/ and lungs, and the flakes and splin-
l tiers sometimes flew into his eyes
but still he worked away. of course
he did not know why he worked
There was no more reason why he
sat on the chute. day after day, than
why Mr.. Fox's daughter took finger
practise" on the piano in her luxu-
rious home.
Not much happened to Johnny
while he sat on the hard, rough
board Not much can happen to q
boy Of this sort, and. If it did why
should II matter? One day his little
companion, who always sat beside