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Updated: May 17, 2025
He wiped his short black beard, and nodded to Vogt. "This goes down pretty quick, doesn't it?" he said, as he spooned up his food. "Rather!" answered Vogt. And the other went on, as he pointed to his empty napkin: "If only our two years would go as fast!" They soon made acquaintance. Weise was the man's name, and he was a locksmith from a factory in the neighbouring coal-district.
The old man's eye would begin to flash and his voice to rise as he told of these horrors, and then his face would soften as he added that, after it was all over and the slavery was put an end to, as he went through a coal-district the women standing at their doors would lift up their children to see "Lawyer Roberts" go by, and would bid "God bless him" for what he had done.
You might demand your legal rights, but if you did, it was a matter of the boss's temper. He might make your life one damn misery till you went of your own accord. Or you might get a string of curses and an order, "Down the canyon!" and likely as not the toe of a boot in your trouser-seat, or the muzzle of a revolver under your nose. Such conditions made the coal-district a place of despair.
And I noticed another, by the aid of my nostrils; a fragrance of stocks and wallflowers wafted on the air from amongst the homely fruit-trees. Both doors and lattices were open; and yet, as is usually the case in a coal-district, a fine red fire illumined the chimney: the comfort which the eye derives from it renders the extra heat endurable.
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