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Updated: May 14, 2025
All her life she had heard of the horrors of a prolonged strike. From childhood she had a dim recollection of someone taking her from her warm bed, and running across fields, seeking safety miles away. As in a dream, she could hear the roar of hoarse voices and see the flickering torches of the mob. Joe shook his head slowly. "No, b'gosh. They mad like the tivil.
They go back some day, so many tollars, every day for work. No more," shaking his head in negation, "No, no more, b'gosh." Elizabeth grew anxious. She seized Mr. Ratowsky's coat sleeve. "But, Joe, tell me truly, is my father in danger? They won't hurt him?" "B'gosh, no. He safe like anything. They no mad like the tivil at him. Emery they mad at." "Is Mr. Emery there?" Again Joe shook his head.
Joe nodded his head vigorously, a habit he had of emphasizing any statement he wished to make particularly strong. Elizabeth could not restrain a smile at the comparison. "Is mother well, too, Joe?" Joe nodded vigorously while he wiped his brow. "She well like the tivil, b'gosh. Yes, b'gosh, she so well as that." "Well, then, Joe, why is it they do not wish me to go home?"
"Meester Emery, he go over ocean. He no come back, mebbe so long till summer. When he come back, the miners so mad they treat him like the tivil, b'gosh." This Mr. Emery, of whom he spoke, was one of the operators of the soft-coal region; a man who visited the miners once in a dozen years and of whom his workmen knew little.
He made his way to the door, keeping his eyes upon the chairs and tables in his path. He sighed with relief when he had passed them, and saw a line of retreat open before him. He continued to repeat the message he would carry to her father. "Grow so tall likes nothing. He will be so glad like the tivil. I tells him so. Yes, he will, b'gosh."
His girl tall like your girl. He no bring her. He proud like the tivil. Never he tell his girl what he do here no, b'gosh, he don't." "Well, come in and I will talk the matter over. We can't do much else than wait." Then turning to his daughter, "Good-night, Elizabeth, I must talk to Joe now." Elizabeth ascended the stair. Joe's visit had taken her mind from her going away.
He had kept his steam-register down to one hundred and fifty pounds when the limit was three hundred. Superintendent Hobart was about to discharge him when Joe Ratowsky appeared. "It's the tivil's own work, b'gosh, Meester Hobart. Gerani, he comes and he fools with the little boiler-clock. Me come like the tivil, b'gosh, or me could have stopped it quick."
In his own tongue, his speech was impressive. He saw now, from the frightened expression of Gerani's face, that his words had struck home. The next morning, the big Pole was not at the mines, nor did he come to draw the pay due him. Joe Ratowsky chuckled to himself when several days passed. "Gerani oh he all right. We no fear him. Me scare him like the tivil, b'gosh." Mr.
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