Litchfield Enquirer

The anthracite coal mines, of Pennsylvania may be classed among the wonders of the world; for there are here whole mountain-tops covered with carbon. Scarcely a turf presses upon the silvery masses of the coal on some of the tracts, where it is dug or quarried in the open air, under the blue vault of heaven, instead of being excavated from mines beneath the dark vaults of overhanging, dripping rocks. The rays of the sun, and not the miner's glimmering lamp afford light to the laborers.

The empty wagons are drawn back to the summit of the mountain by the toilsome labor of mules, who descend again however, without effort in their little moveable stables or pens, mounted on wheels. The conductor stated that these animals have become so habituated to riding down, that they will evince their mulish dispositions when deprived of their expected pleasure, and will endeavor to step into their pens and to lie down, rather than to budge on foot to the bottom of the mountain. They actually appear to take vast satisfaction in their ride, with their ears erect and long faces peering gravely out at the sides, like passengers in a stage coach, to enjoy the prospect. The spectacle of a number of mules, thus transported from the usual station in harness, to the dignified situation of inside passengers, travelling with a greater speed than that of a mail coach, produces an effect so ludicrous as inevitably to produce a smile.—The Tourist.