To Miranda.
I went all over a coal pit yesterday. It was very impressive. Of course the depth and darkness and lowness one expected; but I had not realised the entire absence of all native life; no rats or mice, or even insects. Of course there was no place for them to be; but, were the pit forsaken, there would be none at all. At present there are a few weak flies seen; and the rats are terrifically fierce, having so little food. When caught in a trap they are usually found with great pieces eaten out of them by their fellows. They are brought down sometimes in the bags brought with food for the horses, who live in darkness, but in such an equable temperature, and free from exposure to weather that they look quite thriving. Wood down there soon rots, and is soon covered with white lichen like wool, but exquisitely feathered. The large furnace, kept continually burning near the second shaft, to cause a perpetual draught, looked so living and bright, after the damp low dimly lighted passages. The height of these depends on the depth of the coal strata. They call the earth above it the roof. The safety of a mine, and the ease with which it is worked, much depends on the material of the roof. Here it is stone, which is nice and firm. The main roads are first cut out, from which five yards apart are the cuttings. When these are sufficiently worked, the spaces left between (called pillars) are taken out, and the roof supported with props, which soon give way, and the passages gradually are closed.
VISITS FROM RUSKIN
April 27th, 1862.
To Miss Baumgartner.
Ruskin is coming to us on Wednesday.... There is something almost solemn in the intense joy ... I can remember when he came to us when we were so very very poor, and home was like a little raft in a dark storm; where the wonder every day was whether we could live thro’ it; and now the sea looks calm, even if there are waves; and we have leisure to look at the little boat in which we sail, and wonder if it will ever be painted with bright colours.... I remember too how once Ruskin’s coming was like some strange joy; any little accident might have removed him for ever from all connection with us. Now the silent work of years has bound us together in a sort of friendship, which, whether it leads to outward communication or not, years, and separation, and silences will not touch; and this visit comes like the expression of a friendship naturally, and like a bit of a whole.
14, Nottingham Place,
August 31st, 1862.
To Mrs. Shaen.
I am in town now to take care of the young friends, who are to live with us. The work is extremely interesting to me; all the girls have some special interest to me. Annie and Edith Harris from their relationship to my best friend; I. from her position; M. from her position, and for the sake of her family. Minnie’s pupils, who are coming daily to be taught with the others, are the children of a widow who is working hard to educate them well to support themselves. They are dear, earnest, thoughtful, gentle, well-trained girls; so that the work will be very nice, and supplies an object now that the home is rather broken up.