The Coal War Read Free Page A

mine-urchin had scarcely time to realize them. The bronze doors swung back—and there was a vast, mysterious apartment, with something that smote Little Jerry’s eyes, so that he stopped and stared, paralyzed. The Christmas tree!
    The entrance hall of the Arthur home went up all the way to the roof; and in this tall place the Christmas tree towered, enormous, awe-inspiring as cathedral arches. It gleamed with a thousand tiny electric lights—green, red, blue, yellow, purple. It shone with something like snow, it sparkled with something like jewels. A score of kinds of fruits grew red and yellow on it, fairies and goblins and angels danced about in its branches, mysteries beyond counting peered from its coverts. And beneath it stood a strange and awful figure, a man in a long gown of white furry stuff trimmed with red, with a white furry hat trimmed with red, and a white beard all the way to his waist. There was only one thing Little Jerry could think of—Hal had brought him to heaven, and this mysterious personage was God!
    The Dago mine-urchin had been able to take care of himself in all emergencies which had hitherto arisen in his life. Standing upon the cinder-heaps of the village of North Valley, his voice had been as loud, and his fists as hard, and his cuss-words as prompt and powerful as any boy’s. But here was something new and appalling, depriving him utterly of his savoir faire . He forgot his wonderful clothes, he forgot his role as heir apparent to the throne of Italy, he even forgot his duties as organizer of the United Mine Workers. He stood, clutching Hal’s hand, his mouth open.
    When Hal started him across the room, he walked like a mechanical toy. Everything about this place was bewildering: the carpets under his feet, which were like soft grass; the chairs, which were like feather-beds when you sat in them; the dim lights, the softly shining furniture, the pictures, which were not like other pictures, but were realities magically brought and transferred to the walls. In one corner stood a giant of a man, all steel, with a steel head and a spike on top, and a steel hand with a long and deadly spear. Yet Hal seemed to go near this creature without heeding him. If the old man under the Christmas tree was God, Little Jerry could only think that the one with the spear must be the devil!
    There came the pretty young lady to welcome them—the one who had been in North Valley. Her eyes were soft brown, and her hair was the color of molasses-taffy when you’ve pulled it—but all fluffy and wonderful, with stardust in it. She was clad in something soft and filmy, snow-white, with ribbons of olive-green, and a dream-like scarf of olive-green about her shoulders. She shook Little Jerry’s hand, but his lips were stiff, and his tongue was a lump in his mouth—he could not speak to such a vision of loveliness!
    There came children to be introduced; the room was full of children, Little Jerry began to realize, and all having been scrubbed like him. Yes, Joe Smith was right, they had sweet smells, they looked like fairy-tale children! The little girls had bright red cheeks, and hair all curls, and dresses of white and pink and blue and yellow—like they had just stepped out of store-windows. When one was introduced to them, they bobbed down on one knee in a funny way; Little Jerry felt like a lost soul, he did not know anything about knee-bobbing. He recalled Joe’s statement that he might have to kiss these little girls, and consternation possessed him.
    Miss Otter was very nice to him. She introduced him to another Miss Otter, who was her elder sister, and to several more Miss Otters, who were her cousins, and to a nice, stout, smiling old Mrs. Otter, her mother. All these people had heard that a little boy from a mining-camp was coming to the party, and they did everything they could to make him at home; they asked him questions, and took him about and showed him the