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III. 5. MINERS' SONGS |
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"Pm sleepy" he said. (€Pve been walking all night. Can't sleep when the pain hits me. Have to keep going to keep up the circulation."
The fingers of both of his hands were curled and yellow like the feet of a chicken and the flesh of his arms was pulpy like dry, rotten wood.
"Got this way in the mines" he said. HWe was cleaning out an old holey getting it pumped dry, and pulling out the old machinery. I was foreman and we did a record job. Nobody has equaled our record since, but they wouldn't give us no stove to dry our clothes at. I asked the boss for oney but he saidy €Noy I guess you'll get along.'
"We'd take our clothes off wet at nighty and when we'd come to -put *em on in the morning they would be frozen. Welly a little while of that and I couldn't turn my head. Three of the other men later died of consumption, and if I didn't die right awayy I been dying by inches ever since. Look at those hands."
They were gnarled like chickens' feet.
(<The doctor said I ought to sue the company, but I said, €Awy helly noy I'll be all right.' I just had a stiff necky then, but later ony when it hit my arms, I went to a lawyer. What do you suppose? The man that owned the company had moved to Minnesota and died. And that boss had told lies about us9 said that we were lazy. How could he say that when we'd made a record for them? And before he diedy a feller told mey that boss confessed to what he had done.
aSo nowadays I have to walk. It keeps up the circulation." |
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