Thirty-five Years Underground-Brought to the Surface, He Seeks Death.
Coalbrook [Pa.] Letter to New York Sun:
Three years ago a mule known as “Old Barney,” having spent thirty-five successive years in drawing coal cars in the tunnels of Old Hickory Colliery, was taken out of the mine by his owner and turned out to do as he pleased. Not having breathed any fresh air, nor had a glimpse of daylight since 1850, Old Barney did not take kindly to his new life, and for weeks hung around the mine, recognizing the voices of the miners as they went in and came out, and giving every evidence that he was homesick and wanted to go back to the dark and gloomy chambers where he had grown old. He was unable to see in the daytime for several days, but his sight gradually adapted itself to the new conditions. After Barney found that they were not disposed to let him back into the mine he quit going near it, and spent his time wandering alone about the neighborhood, making no spot his particular habitation, but being welcome everywhere as he was known for miles around and respected as the mule that had lived thirty-five years in a coal mine.
He acted as if he felt that he had been turned out as a useless appendage, and he had a perpetual look of melancholy on his face, and chose the most solitary spots, where he would sometimes remain for days at a time, communing with himself. In spite of his melancholy and his years, his eyes were bright, his coat soft and glossy, and his body in good flesh. Whenever he appeared in the mining villages, which he did frequently, he was always followed and surrounded by troops of miners children, tugging at his stubby tail, hanging to his mouse-colored ears, and straddling his round back. He tolerated children without a protest, no matter what they did to him, but their merriment never dispelled his melancholy for a second.
For a week or so past workmen have been blasting in a ledge of rocks near Old Hickory Colliery, for the purpose of cutting a roadway through it. Last Thursday Old Barney came sauntering along from some place in the hills, and stopped to watch the men at work in the ledge. He evidently remembered the days of blasting in the mines, for every time the men made a charge ready and sought a place of safety to await the explosion Old Barney would take off too, returning after the blast had gone off.
After a half hour or so of solemn enjoyment of this kind Old Barney walked off and disappeared behind the ledge, and the men soon forgot all about him. An hour later they put in an extra large blast, and retired as usual to their safe retreat. About the time they expected to hear the report and see the fragments of rocks flying about, what was their astonishment to see Old Barney reappear around the ledge and walk deliberately up to within six feet of the burning fuse. It was too late to drive him away, for the fuse would be burned to the powder before the men could go ten feet toward the mule. They turned their heads. The blast went off like a cannon, and poor Barney was thrown a rod away and torn to pieces by the mass of rocks. No one can convince anyone who ever knew Old Barney that he did not place himself in the way of the blast, knowing well what the result would be, for the purpose of ending a life that had become burdensome to him.
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