Burnham Breaker

n the State of Pennsylvania. Year by year the suburbs of the city creep

he feet of those in the valley the waves of the out-reaching city beat and break, and out on the hill-sides they stand like mighty fortresses built to guard the lives and fortunes of the multitudes who toil beneath them. But they are not long-lived. Like human beings, they rise, they flourish, they die and are forgotten. Not one in hundreds of the people who walk the streets of Sc

fortune to obtain work at Burnham Breaker. It was just beyond the suburbs of the city as they then were, and near to the homes of all the workmen. The vein of coal at this point was of more than ord

lities and methods did not interfere with his concern for the welfare of his employees. He was not only just, but liberal and kind. He held not only the confidence but the good-will, even the affection,

, either. They sat all day on their little benches, high up in the great black building, with their eyes fixed always on the shallow streams of broken coal passing down the iron-sheathed chutes, and falling out of sight below them; and it was their duty to pick the particles of

the fresh air, the bright sunlight, the fields, the woods, the waters, the birds, the flowers, all things beautiful and wonderful that nature spreads upon the earth to make of it a paradise for boys. To think of all these things, to catch brief glimpses of the happiness

oted at will, and then to sit in such a prison-house as this all day, and breathe an atmosphere so thick with dust that even the bits of blue sky framed in by the open windows in the

eeks and weeks with pictures heralding the wonders of the coming show. By the turnpike road, not forty rods from where the breaker stood, there was a wide barn the whole side of which had been covered with brightly colored prints of b

om the breaker, and hurried, with their dinner-pails, to the roadsid

noon hour, while they were waiting for the signal that should call them back into the dust and din of the screen-room, where they might dream, indeed, of circus joys while bending to their tasks, but that was all. There was much wishing and longing. There was some murmuring. There was even a rash suggestion from one boy that they should

ad its accustomed occupant, and the coal that was poured into the cars at the lo

crunching the lumps of coal, and the bang and rattle of ponderous machinery were never before so loud and discordant, and the black streams m

e-work of the giant building was quiet from its trembling. The iron gates tha

almost startling. The boys lo

saw the breaker boss and the screen-room boss talking with Ro

e than to have the money that they earn. Now, I intend that you shall see the circus if you wish to, and you will be provided with the means of admiss

a vision of happiness to be realized at once. Then

ts and hurrahs so loud and vigorous that they went echoing through eve

as he passed, receiving from Mr. Burnham's own hand the shining piece of s

and in voices that were almost too much

teeth were gleaming from their dust-black faces, each look and action was eloquent with thoug

happiness in making others happy. But it has never ceased to be true; it never will cease to be true;

of them were black with coal-dust, and their clothes were patched and soiled. But this one had just cut his h

Mr. Burnham, "you have cu

t way." The man had the little hand in his and bent to examine the wound. "That's quite a cut," he sai

covered the water-pail, dipped out a cup of

y, "Poor coal wouldn't make such a clean cut

rcumstances into consideration, I regard that as the b

d off as well as water

work to git 'em real clean. The dirt gits into the corners so, an' int

ound for something to

handkerchief

ndanna handkerchief of the old style, but alas! it was sadly

. "You can't keep a han'kerchy very clean a-

e, and red won't do. Here, I have a white one. This is just the thing," he added, tearing his own handkerchief into strips and binding them carefull

nd then turned back. The breaker boss and the screen-room

ing up the silver coin, "if I spent this money for s

but I thought you boys would rather spend your money a

ed to go to this one, 'cause it's a big one; but they's sumpthin' else

greater desire; a strong and noble one, the man felt sure, to call for such a sacrifice. Visions of a worn-out mother, an invalid sister

sh my'dent

do w

tity; that's what U

he matter with

a stranger; I don't kn

r relations are! Wh

imes, 'cause I live with Uncle Billy; but he ain't my uncle, you know,-I only ca

man had started, turned pale, and then his face flushed deeply.

self, Ralph; where

that dumps at the head, pushes the cars out from the

assent and th

good he's been to me; but he ain't my uncle, he ain't no 'latio

en window to the far line of hills with the

illy get you?" a

ow me at all; that's where he's so good. I was sick, an' he hired Widow Maloney to tend me whi

had you come from w

ally, an' she wasn't much better'n him, only she couldn't see very well, an' she couldn't follow me. I slep' with Buck the bootblack that night, an' nex' mornin', early, I started out in the country. I was 'fraid they'd find me if I stayed aroun' the city. It was pirty near afternoon 'fore I got out where the fields is, an' then a woman, she give me sumpthin' to eat. I wanted to git away from the city fur's I could, an' day-times I walked fast, an' nights I slep' under the big trees, an' folks in the houses along the road, they give me things to eat. An' then a circus came along, an' the man on the tiger wagon he give me a ride, an' then I went everywhere with the circus, an' I worked for 'em, oh! for a good many days; I worked real hard too,

tal. His eyes had been fixed on the boy's fac

story. And is that all you know about yourself?

what I want to find out

money have

countin' what I'll sa

se to proceed when yo

f of it to a 'tective, an' then the 'tective, he finds out all about you. Uncle Billy say

and they should be rich and give you a gr

o much about the money, sir, if I could have folks like other boys have. If I could only have a mother, that's what I want worst, a mother to kiss me

urned his

like to have a fat

ver had no mother, nor no sister; an' that's what I want now, an" I want 'em very bad. Seems, sometimes, jes' as if I couldn't wait

ch I myself would give my fortune for I can never have. I mean my lit

e screen-room. The child was awed by the

alph said

go now an' tel

am rose i

d the quarter. Yes," as the boy hesitated to accept the proffered money, "yes, you must take it; you can pay it back, you know, when-when you come to your own. And wait! I want to help you in that m

sir; yes,

ght; go

-by,

in through the gate at the front of the big tent, and he had to take

hat, and gave close scrutiny to every one who passed by. The breaker boys, who had gone into the tent in a body some minutes earlier, had attracted his attention and aroused his interest. By and by his eyes rested upon Ralph, who stood back in the line, awaiting the forward movement of the crowd. The old man started perceptibly at sight of the boy, and uttered an ejaculation of surprise, whi

re were ladies in elegant riding habits and men in knightly costumes, there were prancing steeds and gorgeous banners, elephants, camels, monkeys, clowns, a moving mass of dazzling beauty and bright colors t

ed dogs and horses, the clowns and the monkeys, the riding and the races; all of it too wonderful, to

hey went out to the menagerie tent

ing gleefully at each comical trick performed by the grave-faced little creatures. Looking up, he saw an

these monkeys,"

e boy. "Luk at that un, now!-don

old man, gazing across

attering with

who that boy is, over yonder, with

-talkin' to Jimmy

there by the

there with the blue

with his hand banda

hat's

ph w

't got no other name.

ll

elor Billy

in't got n

k with you i

nes; we work in the screen-room up t' the b

s he been wo

ars, I guess. You want to

Don't call him; he isn't the

w. I'll have 'im here in a minute;

e dusty road, through the crowds of people, up toward the city. He was smiling, and muttering to himself. "Found him a