. Forrester's pictorial miscellany for the family circle . osion reverberatesamonof the hollow windings of the mine like subterraneous thunders. o w The stones are thrown up, as by a volcano, to a great height in theair; and the concussion shakes the earth all around. This traveller descended also into the mine by the same sort ofdangerous conveyance as the one just mentioned ; and he owns thathe shuddered, and half repented his curiosity; for in him it wasnothing better. He was nine minutes in a state of suspension beforehe reached the bottom. The view of the mine he describes asawfully grand
. Forrester's pictorial miscellany for the family circle . osion reverberatesamonof the hollow windings of the mine like subterraneous thunders. o w The stones are thrown up, as by a volcano, to a great height in theair; and the concussion shakes the earth all around. This traveller descended also into the mine by the same sort ofdangerous conveyance as the one just mentioned ; and he owns thathe shuddered, and half repented his curiosity; for in him it wasnothing better. He was nine minutes in a state of suspension beforehe reached the bottom. The view of the mine he describes asawfully grand. Daylight was very faint at these depths : into manyparts it could not penetrate ; and they were obliged to use of wood were stretched from side to side of the rock in someplaces; and in these, men were sitting astride at great heights, bor-ing holes for the next blasting. Though the weather was warm atthe surface of the earth, yet amid these dark brown caves it was one of these caverns under the rock was a charcoal fire, around. Descent to Presbey Klines. 270 PICTORIAL MISCELLANY. which were eight miserable looking creatures, eating their meal andwarming themselves. To convert iron into steel, of which cutlery is made, nothing moreis necessary than to heat good pure iron in a proper furnace withcharcoal, or with any substance capable of furnishing a sufficientquantity of carbon, which is absorbed by the iron in the process. The Child and the Brook. BY NILLA FORRESTER. * WHERE did you come from1? say, pretty brook, And whither away so fast?Asked a thoughtful child of a babbling brook,As it leaped in gladness past. Ah, ha, little girl, my mother-spring Is upon the mountain-side ;I leaped from her lap like a truant boy,And down through the hills I glide. But what is your hurry? please tarry a while, Just up in this flowery nook;Where violets cluster blue as the skies — I cant, says the hurrying brook ! Fie, fie, naughty brook ! just linger, I pray,And
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Keywords: ., booka, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1850, booksubjectnaturalhistory
