CHAPTER XV.
AN EVENTFUL JOURNEY.
The shaft-tower of Burnham Breaker reached up so high from the surface
of the earth that it seemed, sometimes, as if the low-hanging clouds
were only a foot or two above its head. In the winter time the wind
swept wildly against it, the flying snow drifted in through the wide
cracks and broken windows, and the men who worked there suffered from
the piercing cold. But when summer came, and the cool breeze floated
across through the open places at the head, and one could look down
always on the green fields far below, and the blossoming gardens,
and the gray-roofed city, and the shining waters of the Lackawanna,
winding southward, and the wooded hills rising like green waves to
touch the far blue line of mountain peaks, ah, then it was a pleasant
place to work in. So Bachelor Billy thought, these warm spring days,
as he pushed the dripping cars from the carriage, and dumped each load
of coal into the slide, to be carried down between the iron-teethed
rollers, to be crushed and divided and screened and re-screened, till
it should pass beneath the sharp eyes and nimble fingers of the boys
who cleansed it from its slate and stone.
Billy often thought, as he dumped a carload into the slide, and saw a
huge lump of coal that glistened brightly, or glowed with iridescent
tints, or was veined with fossil-marked or twisted slate, that
perhaps, down below in the screen-room, Ralph's eyes would see the
brightness of the broken lump, or Ralph's fingers pick the curious
bits of slate from out the moving mass.
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