The Blind Brother: A Story of the Pennsylvania Coal Mines

of loosened slate, or to the drip of water from the roof. Its pillars, robbed by retreating workmen, are crumbling and rusty, and those of its props which are still standing have b

ty men and boys went by the slope into it every morning, and came out from it every night. They were simple and

ly two weeks. Efforts had been made by the strikers to persuade th

, had come to the Dryden Slope. They had induced the miners to go out at all the workings they had thus far entered, and were no less successful here. It required persuasion

heir fellows while a strike was in progress, were called "black-legs,"

e headings, toward the foot of the slope, came little groups, with dinner-pails

e new north heading, were holding an especially animated conversation. Fully one-half of the men were

e heading to the foot of the slope. Where the route crossed from the airway to the heading, the space between the pillars had been carefully boarded across, so that th

was attend

e filed through the opening, while Bennie, the door

or-boy wi' ye!" shoute

ion turned back to where Bennie, apparently lost in astonishment a

d; "come along! Ye'll hav

sir," answered Bennie. "T

the cars. Come al

till Tom comes,

by were like children beside him. Then one of the men who worked in the mine, a

m alone. His brother'll tak

te still, with his hand on the

group of men passed by, one of whom had stopped and approached him, as if he meant him harm. It roused the curiosity of "Jack

le of his face moved; even hi

s tenderness in the giant's voice as he spoke, and

u know? I

a-workin' i'

know. All I've to do is to open it when I hear th

t ye did na get here

ted up with pleasu

ouldn't get along without him; I

and he was charmed by the voice of the child. It had in it that touch of pa

an' tell me aboot Tom, an' aboot

acks, blind Bennie and Jack Rennie, the giant, and while one told the story of his blindness,

years older than himself. Tom was so good to him; and Tom could see, cou

nce from Philadelphia to visit Major Dryden, before the major died; and he had chanced to see Tom and Bennie up by the mines, and ha

h, maybe a hundred dollars;" and then some one came and c

d go to Philadelphia, if ever he c

food and clothing for the little family. But the dollar or two that he had been

p to obtain the fund which was to cure him. Then Tom, with the aid of the kindhearted mine superintendent, found employment for his brother as a door-bo

y mine-car, and Tom's mule drew them, rattling along the heading, till they re

e's doorway on three round trips in the forenoon, and three round trips in the afternoon; and every day, when the noon-hour came, he stopp

last trip for the day, Bennie climbed to the top of a load, and rode out, or

the sight into my eyes; an' then Tom an' me we're goin' to work together all our lives. Tom, he's goin' to get a chamber an' be a miner, an' I'm goin' to be Tom's lab

ourage, no sublimity of faith, that could compare with those of this blind son of poverty and toil. He had his high ambition, and that was to work. He had his

ribe to Tom. He would sooner have disbelieved all of his four remaining senses than have believed

d have been more manly, no knight of old could have been more true and te

id Jack, still charmed and c

ld country first, an' then he sent for Mommi

sad for the mither! Took

weeks before me an' Tom an' Mommie got here. I wasn't but four years old then, but I can remember how Mommie cried. She didn't

that some strong emotion was taking hold of him. He lifted the

ye-i' the mine

head; they said he didn't

the flame from the spout of the l

enit it-i' what p

o. 6 shaft, I think

ck ear had caught the change in the man's v

! gi' me the f

's little one, and held it in a painful g

sir! Please don't hu

ole warld. But I must ha' the father's

d Bennie, as he sank back

ed to have shrunk by at least a quarter of its size; and for many minutes he sat, silent a

elf, picked up his lam

e a-goin'; good-by till ye.

'ays stops for me; he aint come up

away, then tur

p?" he asked; "h

any. It wouldn't be any

e had gone a short distance, a thought seemed to strike

e city wi' your eyes. I ha' money to sen' ye

ong hand laid gently on his shoulder, and a rough, bearded face press

d, their sound swallowed up at last in the dist

d it. Perhaps Tom could explain it, though; yes, he would tell Tom about it. Then it occurred to him that it was long past time for Tom to come up from the f

he turned and went up through the door and along the ai

him for the world if he could help it. He knew, too, that it was long after quitting-time, and there

endure it. He determined to try to find the way out by himself. He had walked to the f

r-pail, and started bravely down the heading, striking the rails of the

ear Tom coming to meet him, or, possibly, some belated laborer going out fr

ong; he could not bear the silence, it was too depressing, and after a very little while he arose and walked on. The caps in the track grew higher; once he stumbled over one of them and fell, striking his

e heading along which he went to and from his daily work. He reached out with his cane upon

e kep

a hollow sound, as though he were in some wide, open space, and his cane struck one, two, three,

ranched off to the right, crossed under the slope, and ran out into the southern part of the mine, where he had never been. He thought he must have turned

ill until help should come, though it might be h

to the door, and not finding him there, would think that his brother had already gone home. But when he knew that Bennie was not at home, he would surely come back

the sound of his own voice, as it rang out through the solemn stillness of the mine, and w

ries, and sent back their ghosts to play upon the nervous fancy of the frightened

endure that. He grasped his cane again and started on, searching for a path, stumbling over caps, falling sometimes, but on and on, though never so slowly; on and

ening and winding and crossing all around him, and he, lying p