there were no screens at that place; a deal was made, and the next morning I went to work. My employers were two brawny Englishmen, brothers -- one a Christian, the other an habitual drunkard. Both were large-hearted fellows, who afterward proved themselves worthy of the confidence I soon placed in them. My work was hard, but I stood it well; I worked faithfully and my efforts were appreciated.
I boarded at the only hotel in the place, and, being the youngest boy in the mine, was known among the miners as the "b'y." Some forty of these miners were in the hotel, and all of them learned that the "b'y'" was just in the proper condition to use friends to advantage. Every Saturday night those fellows took a keg of beer to the "wash-house." tapped it, and drank it with the avowed intention of getting drunk drowning trouble, etc. Two of their number would be selected to keep their feet in order that they might care for those who became helpless; couples took their turn much the same as nurses in caring for the sick. They often asked me to drink, but, as I never did, it occurred to them to engage me to care for them Saturday nights. I regarded it as neither a duty nor a pleasant occupation, but as simply an addition of $2 a week to mv wages, and accordingly accepted the terms and held the position until I left the place. Strangely enough, however quarrelsome those men grew, a word from the "b'y" would end the strife. Once one of them in his stupor attempted to strike me, and was knocked down by his own brother.
When summer came, work became very slack, and there were so many days of idleness that I left those big-hearted, friendly fellows, and have never since met a truer lot. At Duquoin, Ill., thirty miles from there. I secured work with a farmer who needed help for a few weeks, and, when his fall plowing was done, went to St. Louis, where on the day of my arrival, I found work on Washington St., with "Jim" Carigan. He owned several tenement houses, mostly frame buildings, which it was my duty to keep in repair. Being a sort of "Handy Andy," the painting, carpentering, etc., came naturally, and in a week my employer advanced my wages. I was enjoying (?) city life until one Saturday afternoon he said, in response to some remark of mine: "You talk too much like a Yankee to suit me." I replied: "Then get some flannel-mouthed Irishman to do your work." Ten minutes later I stood, "grip" in
Copyright (c) 1999, 2007 Brian Cragun.