MARBLE BLASTING.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XXVI, Issue 71, 28 March 1892, Page 4

MARBLE BLASTING.

i It is impossible not to feel a certain r degree of oxoitement on firet witnessing _ tho blasting ol a block from the steep, oi' which, since creation almost it has formed a part Tno bustle of tho men, tho long- ' drawn notes ofthe melancholy horn, tho t lighting of tho match, tho hurrj -skurry l to sv comparative pluco of safety, ail ) cause tho heart to bent quicker and tbo i broath to bo drawn with oilbrt. Then one stands and watches iv silent expectation. Time, too, seems to Btand still. Will tho spark never reach its goalp Tho sun overhead beats down upou you with its ardour, but you do p not feel its rays. Tho perspiration ponds down your face, but you do not attempt to wipo it ofl'. You eau do nothing but 1 fix your eyes upon tho doomed masß and 1 wait. A deafening noar — tho rock on which yon stand seems to tremble • beneath your feet — a cloud of dust tshoots i up into tho azuro sky, thou comes a . moment of suspouso lbr all. Has tho ' blast taken eil'LcbP Has ib been a ' failure P A failuro 1 No, for look ! tho mass quivers on its base, and you bocomo aware that it haa been dotaohed from its ■ parent bed. It hangs on tho brink, I tottors, trembles, it seems to hesitate , taking tho fearlul leap beforo it. It • Bhivers, aud you shiver with it, ko [ wrapt do yon bonorno in tho bccuo bcioro you. Anothor shivor, moro vio- • lont than tho preceding — anothor tromu--1 lous jork, and thou, slowly turning upon i itself, tho mass sways forward, turns ovor yet moro, loses balance, and, Avith a foar. Jul bound, leaps forward iuto spaco j gouorally spoakiug, only to crash upon tho rock a few yards lowor. Then, howover, commonces a terrible course. Bounding, leaping, flying, rolling onward on its downward path liko a lost soul (upon its despcrato road to holl, scattering right and left, Bhowers of doadly glittering chips which flash liko hail in tho sunlight ami cany death iv thoir flight. On, on, over downwards, waking the echoes around — causing tho fulcon from his perch high overhead to add his ohrill scream to tho ohorus, and wing his eh*. cling flight to less turbulent regions. On, on, will it strike to tho lelt P will it bouud off to tho right P will it P With a buddeu spurt it stops — its courso out short by somo barrier, natural or arti. ficiul. Thon you, too, descend, and soo lying thero a glittering, gleaming mass, that may bear hiddon within a sculptor's dream that that shall awakon tho admiration of thousands, or a mass doomed to bo huwji into slabs, on which heavy Germans will clink their beor mugs, or duinty Parisians uot down their collbo cups undor the gas and amid tho gaioiy of tho boulovards.— From "Oarrara," CornhUl Magazine,