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Loraqua la documant aat trop grand pour Atra raproduit an un aaui clichA, il aat f llmA A partir da I'angla aupAriaur gaucha, da gauche A drolta, at da haut an baa, an pranant la nombra d'imagaa nAcasaaira. Laa diagrammas auivanta llluatrant la mAthoda. 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 .^ n a- it 'lM-}/U-\ - V^- '- -■ i-n Ttr— t^ FACING DEATH. ■^^fSBf^ ■*?^ M U. y. o WIL] The rx... ■H^ FACING DEATH OB, THE HERO OF THE VAUGHAN PIT. A TALE OF THE COAL MINES. BY G. A. HENTY, Aathor of " With OUre in India;" •* Tn Freedom's OkOMt" » By Sheer Pluck;" " Undw Drake*! Fla<:" fto. WITH EIGHT FULIrPAQS ILLUSTRATIONS BT GORDON BROWNE. OLASGOWt BLACKIE & SON, Luima TORONTO : WILLIAM BRIGGS, 29-33 Riohmoot) St. Wkst. The COPP, OLARK COMPANY, Luuted, 9 Front St. Wwt. . ..-;« mM^KOm oO F3 MOMdlBf to Aet Of the FMrBament of OuimIa, In the yew ont ttMonad aicht hundnd mmI nlnatif -MfMi, by Blaohi * SOK, Limited, at th* BtpartflMBk •! AgiisuttaN. ■ OONTENTa II 1 n n n. 1 m. 1 IV. I V. ■ VL H [ VIL 11 VIIL 9 IX. ■ J^ tli« yew ont 11 mitod. Kt tlM 11 1 XI. ( XII. XIII. 11 XIV. !■ XV. I j XVL ■ 1 XVII. ■ 1 XVIII. '1 1 XIX. 1 m XX. 1 ■ XXL 1 H XXII. 1 H XXIII. JB XXIV. B XXV. m xxvL U XXVII. H XXVIII. B XXIX. 1 B XXX. ^m xxxL Evil Ttmscm, 9 BULL-DOO, 19 Thi RnoLunoir, 81 Thi Vauohan Pit, 80 SBTTuro TO Work, 49 "Thi Old SuArr," 64 FRnNDBHIP, 64 Pboobksb, 74 Thi Gbkat Stbiu, 80 Hard Times, 96 Thi Attack on thi Enoini-housi, 106 Ami THI Stbiki, I ... 117 A HiAVT Lobs, 124 Thi Nioht-school, 184 Thi Siwino-olasb, 146 A Niw LiFi, 166 The Doo Fight, 166 Stokibbidoi Fiast, 178 Thi Obiat Biot, 188 Thi Abm of thi Law, 198 A Knotty Quistion, 201 Thi Solution, 209 Thi Explosion at thi Vauohan, 222 In Diadlt Pibil, 286 Thi Impbibonid Minibs, 289 A Cbitioal Momint, 268 Hiscued, 269 Chanois, 274 Thi Niw MANAaiB, 288 BisiN, 289 OONOLUBIOM, 298 ILLUSTRATIONa ?AOI Bulldog fWiMi a Fbiind, Frmtitpieee. In THi Old SHArr— Oak hi bi SavidT 68 NiLLT's F1B8T LaaaoN, ^® A LiFi OB DiATH SrsnooLi^ . • • • 1^8 Jack ib Viotobioto, ^^^ Thb Nbw Sohoolmibtbiss, 217 AnBB TBI FiBBT BxPLOBioK— Thb Sbaboh Fabxt, • . .287 SAVB)! 270 i M515M515M5M515M5M5M51MMgfgMMMgMM5igMMMgf5j I FACING DEATH: 0B» HOW STOKEBBIDGE WAS CIVILIZEU CHAPTER L EVIL TIDINGa ROW of brick-built houses with slate roofs, at the edge of a large mining village in Staffordshire. The houses are dingy and colourless, and without relief of any kind. So are those in the next row, so in the street beyond, and throughout the whole village. There is a dreary monotony about the place; and if some giant could come and pick up all the rows of houses, and change their places one with another, it is a question whether the men, now away at work, would notice any differ- ence whatever until they entered the houses standing in the place of those which they had left in the morn- ing. There is a church, and a vicarage half hidden away in the trees in its pretty old-fashioned garden; there are two or three small red-bricked dissenting chapels, and the doctor's house, with a bright brass 19 BILL HA08N OOMES HOME BABLT. knocker and plate on the door. There are no otiier buildings above the common average of mining villages; and it needs not the high chimneys, and engine-houses with winding gear, dotting the surrounding country, to notify the fact that Stokebridge is a mining village. It is a little past noon, and many of the women come to their doors and look curiously after a miner, who, in his working clothes, and black with coal-dust, walks rapidly towards his house, with his head bent down, and his thick felt hat slouched over his eyes. "It's Bill Haden; he works at the *Vaughan."* "What brings he up at tl^is hour?" " Summat wrong, I'll be bound." Bill Haden stopped at the door of his house in the row first spoken of, lifted the latch, and went in. He walked along a narrow passage into the back-room. His wife, who waa standing at the washing-tub, turned round with a surprised exclamation, and a bulUdog with half-a-dozen roun4 tumbling puppies scrambled out of a basket by the fire, and rushed to greet him. "What is it, Bill? what's brought thee home before time?" For a moment Bill Haden did not answeir, h^t stooped, and, as it Yfisee inpchanicallyi lifted ^ 4pg and stroked its head. " There's blood on thy hil^^* BUIr Wha^ hl^ '^^9^ with 'ee?" " It hain't iipne of mine, lass/' the man said ip an uasteady vpiq^. f* |t h§ Jftpk'a, B^ h? gQne," A BAD ERRAND. U ''Ay, Jack Simpson; the mate I ha' worked with ever since we were butties together. A fall just came as we worked side by side in the stall, and it broke his neck, and he's dead." The woman dropped into a chair, threw her apron over her head, and cried aloud, partly at the loss of her husband's mate, partly at the thought of the narrow escape he had himself had. " Now, lass," her husband said, " there be no time to lose. It be for thee to go and break it to his wife. I ha' come straight on, a purpose. I thawt to do it, but I feel like a gal myself, and it had best be told her by another woman." Jane 99>cien took her apron from her face. " Oh, Bill, how can I do it, and she ill, and with a two-month baby? I misdoubt me it will kill her," "Thou'st got to do it," Bill said doggedly, "and thou'd best be quick about it; it won't be many mi- nutes afore they bring him in." When Bill spoke in that way his wife knew, as he said, that she'd got to do it, and without a word she rose and went out, while her husband stood staring into the fire, and still patting the bull-dog in his arma A tear falling on his hand startled him. He dropped the dog and gave it a kick, passed his sleeve across his eyes, and said angrily: '-Blest if I hain't a crying like a gal. Who'd a thawt ill? Well, well, poor old Jaek! he waa a g:<9^ 12 "IT WILL GO HARD WITH HER." mate too" — and Bill Haden proceeded to light his pipe. Slowly and reluctantly Mrs. Haden passed along the row. The sad errand on which she was going was one that has often to be discharged in a large colliery village. The women who had seen Bill go in were still at their doors, and had been joined by others. The news that he had come in at this unusual hour had passed about quickly, and there was a general feeling of uneasiness among the women, all of whom had husbands or relatives below ground. When, there- fore, Jane Haden came out with signs of tears on her cheeks, her neighbours on either side at once assailed her with questions. " Jack Simpson's killed by a fall," she said, ** and I ha' got to break it to his wife." Bapidly the news spread along the row, from door to door, and from group to group. The first feeling was everywhere one of relief that it was not their turn this time; then there was a chorus of pity for the widow. " It will go hard with her," was the general verdict. Then the little groups broke up, and went back to their work of getting ready for the return of their husbands from the pit at two o'clock. One or two only, of those most intimate with the Simpsons, followed Jane Haden slowly down the street to the door of their house, and took up a position a short distance off, talking quietly together, in case they might be wanted, and with the intention of going in STRIOKBN DOWN. 18 after the news was broken, to help comfort the widow, and to make what preparations were needed for the last incoming of the late master of the house. It was but a minute or two that they had to pause, for the door opened again, and Jane Haden beckoned them to come in. It had, as the gossips had predicted, gone hard with the young widow. She was sitting before the fire when Jane entered, working, and rocking the cradle beside with her foot. At the sight of her visitor's pale face, and tear-stained cheeks, and quivering lips, she had dropped her work and stood up, with a terrible presentiment of evil — with that dread which is never altogether absent from the mind of a collier's wife. She did not speak, but stood with wide-open eyes staring at her visitor. " Mary, my poor girl," Mrs. Haden began. That was enough, the whole truth burst upon her. '* He is killed?" she gasped. Mrs. Haden gave no answer in words, but her face was sufficient as she made a step forward towards the slight figure which swayed unsteadily before her. Mary Simpson made no sound save a gasping sob, her hand went to her heart, and then she fell in a heap on the ground, before Mrs. Haden, prepared as she was, had time to clasp her. " Thank God," Jane Haden said, as she went to the front door and beckoned the others in, "she has fainted." u A MOTHBR TO THfl OilFHAN. " A.J, I thaWt as iniich," one of the WomeU Sfkid, "and ik good job too^ It's always best so till he is brought home; and things an straightened up." Between them Mary Sim|)son wils tenderly lifted, and carried upstairs and laid on the bed of a lod^i^s room there. The cradle was brought up idid pUt beside iti and then Jane Haden took heir seat by the bed, one woniah went for the doctor ^ While thd othei^ pi^pared the room below. In a short titna all that i^e- mained of Jack Simpson Was borne honie On a stretdiet, on the shoulders of six of his fellow-workm^ti, and laid in the darkened room^ The doctor jc&me and went £or the next two days, and then his visits cetoed. It had gone hard with Mary Simpson. She had passed from one long fainting fit into another, until at last she lay as quiet as did Jack below; and the doctor, murmuring "A weak heart, poor little Woman; the shock was too mucih for hei"," took his dep^rtute for the last time from the house. Then Jane HadeH, Who had not left hei^ friend's side ever sin(i^ she Was cd.tned upstairs, wrapped the baby in a shaWl tind Went honie, a neighbour carrying the cradle. When Bill Haden returned from Work he found the room done up, the table laid for tea, and the kettli^ on the firoi His wife wad sitting b;^ it with the baby on her lap. (( Welli lass," he said, as he entered the room, " so the poor gal's gone. I heard it as I came along. Thou'st's had a hard two days on't. HuUoa! what's that?" BABT ANB JUNO. 15 " It's the baby, Bill," his Wife said " What hast brought un here for?" he asked roughly. Jane Haden did not answer directly, but standing in front of her husband, removed the handkerchief which covered the baby's face as he lay on her arm. " Look at him. Bill; he's something like Jack, don't thou see it?" " Not a bit of it," he said gruffly. " Kids don't take after their father, as pups do." " I can see the likeness quite plain. Bill. Now," she went on, laying her hand on his shoulder, " I want to keep him. We ain't got none of our own^ Bill, and I can't abear the thought of his going to the House." Bill Haden stood irresolute. "I shouldn't like to think of Jack's kid in the House; still he'll be a heap of trouble — worse nor a dozen pups, and no chance of winning a prize with him nohow, or of selling him, or swopping him if his points don't turn out right. Still, lass, the trouble will be thine, and by the time he's ten he'll begin to earn his grub in the pit; so if thy mind be set on't, there's 'n end o* the matter. Now let's have tea; I ain't had a meal fit for a dog for the last two days, and Juno ain't got her milk regular." So little Jack Simpson became a member of the Haden family, and his father and mother were laid to rest in the burying-ground on the hillside above the village.' i ! iil, CHAPTER IL BULL-DOQ. CURIOUS group as they sit staring into the fire. Juno and Juno's daughter Bess, .brindles both, with their underhanging lower jaws, and their black noses and wrinkled faces, and Jack Simpson, now six years old, sitting between them, as grave and as immovable as his supporters. One dog is on either side of him and his arms are thrown round their broad backs. Mrs. Haden is laying the table for her husband's return; she glances occasionally at the quiet group in front of the fire, and mutters to herself: " I never did see such a child in all my bom days." Presently a sudden and simultaneous pricking of the closely-cropped ears of Juno and Bess proclaim that among the many footsteps outside they have detected the tread of their master. Jack accepts the intimation and struggles up to his feet just as Bill Haden lifts the latch and enters. " It's a fine day. Bill," his wife said. "Be it?" the collier replied in return. ''I took no (lei) "game enough.'* 17 no note o't. However it doant rain, and that's all I cares for. And how's the dogs? Did you give Juno that physic ball I got for her?" " It's no manner of use, Bill, leaving they messes wi* me. I ha' tould you so scores o' times. She woant take it from me. She sets her jaws that fast that horses could na pull 'em apart, and all the while I'm trying she keeps oop a growl like t' organ at w^ie church. She's a* right wi'out the physic, and well nigh pinned Mrs. Brice when she came in to-day to borrow a flat- iron. She was that frighted she skirled out and well nigh fainted off. I had to send Jack round to the " Chequers " for two o' gin before she came round." ** Mrs. Brice is a fool and you're another," Bill said. Now, ooman, just take off my boots for oim main tired. What be you staring at, Jack? Were you nearly pinning Mother Brice too?" " I doant pin folk, I doant," Jack said sturdily. " I kicks 'em, I do, but I caught hold o' Juno's tail, and held on. And look 'ee here, dad, I've been a thinking, doant *ee lift I oop by my ears no more, not yet. They are boath main sore. I doant believe neither Juno nor Bess would stand bein lifted oop by their ears, not if they were sore. I be game enough, I be, but till my ears be well you must try some other part. I expect the cheek would hurt just as bad, so you can try that." " I do wish, Bill, you would not try these tricks on thf» boy. He's game enough, and if you'd ha* seen him '161) B 18 STRANGE CONDUCT OF BESS. 1: fighting to-day with Mrs. Jackson's Bill, nigh twice as big us himself, you'd ha' said so too; but it ain't Christian-like to try children the same way as pups, and really his ears are sore, awful sore. I chanced t' notice 'em when I washed his face afore he went to school, and they be main bad, I tell 'ee." " Coom here," the miner said to Jack. " Aye, they be sore surely; why didn't 'ee speak afore, Jack? I doant want to hurt *ee, lad." "I wa'n't going to speak," Jack said. "Mother found it out, and said she'd tell 'ee o't; but the last two nights I were well nigh yelping when *ee took me up. " You're a good plucked 'un. Jack," Bill Haden said, " and I owt not t' ha done it, but I didn't think it hurt 'ee, leastways not more nor a boy -owt to be hurt, to try if 'ee be game!" "And what's you and t' dogs been doing to-day. Jack?" the miner asked, as he began at his dinner. " We went for a walk, dad, after school, out in the lanes; we saw a big black cat, and t' dogs chased her into a tree, then we got 't a pond, and d'ye know, dad, Bess went in and swam about, she did!" "She did?" the miner said sharply. "Coom here, Be«s;" and leaving his meal, he began anxiously to examine the bull-dog's eyes and listened attentively to her breathing. " That were a rum start for a bull too, Jack. She doant seem to ha* taken no harm, but nwy be it ain't showed itself. Mother, you give her jack's foster father. 10 iwice ain't I, and ed t' nt to they k? I [other e last 9k me 1 said, t hurt art, to o-day, ler. Iin the id her , dad, here, |sly to rely to [\\ too, but re her some hot grub t' night. Doant you let her go in t' water again. Jack. What on airth made her tak it into her head to go into t' water noo, I wonder?" "I can't help it if she wants to," Jack said; "she doant mind I, not when she doant want to mind. I welted her t'other day when she wanted to go a't parson's coo, but she got hold o' t' stick and pulled it out o' my hand." "And quite raight too," Bill Haden said; "don't 'ee try to welt they dogs, or I'll welt thee!" "I doant care," the child said sturdily; "if I goes out in charge o' they dogs, theys got to mind me, and how can I make 'em mind me if I doant welt 'em ? What would 'ee say to I if Bess got had up afore the court for pinning t* parson's coo?" As no ready reply occurred to Bill Haden to this question he returned to his meal. Juno and Bess watched him gravely till he had finished, and then, having each received a lump of meat put carefully aside for them, returned to the fire. Jack, curling himself up beside them, lay with his head on Juno's body and slept till Mrs. Haden, having cleared the table and washed up the things, sent him out to play, her husband having at the conclusion of his meal lighted his pipe and strolled over to the " Chequers." Bill Haden had, according to his lights, been a good father to the child of his old mate Simpson. He treated him just as if he had been his own. He spent twopence a day less in beer than before, and gave his D008 AND BOY& wife fourteen pence in addition to her weekly money for household expenses, for milk for the kid, just as he allowed twopence a day each for bones for Juno and Bess. He also when requested by his wife handed over what sum was required for clothing and shoes, not without grumbling, however, and comparisons as to the wants of dorgs and boys, eminently unfavourable to the latter. The weekly twopence for schooling Mrs. Haden had, during the year that Jack had been at school, paid out of her housekeeping money, knowing that the expenses of the dogs afforded no precedent whatever for such a charge. Bill Haden was, however, liberal to the boy in many ways, and when in a good temper would often bestow such halfpence as he might have in his pocket upon him, and now and then taking him with him into town, returned with such clothes and shoes that "mother" held up her hands at the extravagance. Among his young companions Jack was liked but feared. When he had money he would purchase bull's-eyes, and collecting all his acquaintances, distri- bute them among them; but he was sofnewhat sedate and old-fashioned in his ways, from his close friendships V Ibh such thoughtful and meditative animals as Juno and Bess, and when his wrath was excited he was terrible. Never uttering a cry, however much hurt, he would fight with an obstinacy and determination which generally ended by giving him the victory, for if he once got hold of an antagonist's hair-spinning A SERIOUS CONSIDERATION. 81 coming to him naturally — no amount of blows or ill- treatment could force him to leave go until his agonized opponent confessed himself vanquished. It was not often, however, that Jack came in contact with the children of his own age. His duties as guardian of the " dorgs " absorbed the greater part of his time, and as one or both of these animals generally accompanied him when he went beyond the door, few cared about having an)'tlnng to say to him when so attended; for the guardianship was by no means entirely on his side, and however excellent their qualities and pure their breed, neither Juno nor Bess were animals with whom strangers would have ventured upon familiarity. Jack's reports to his " dad " of Bess's inclination to attack t' parson's coo was not without effect, although Bill Haden had made no remark at the time. That night, however, he observed to his wife: " I've been a thinking it over, Jane, and I be come to the opinion that it's better t' boy should not go out any more wi' f dorgs. Let 'em bide at home, I'll take 'em oot when thoy need it. If Bess takes it into her head to pin a coo there might be trouble, an I doan't want trouble. Her last litter o* pups brought me a ten pun note, and if they had her oop at 'a court and swore her life away as a savage brute, which she ain't no way, it would pretty nigh break my heart." The execution of this, as of many other good inten- tions, however, was postponed until an event happened ■i! 22 A TERRIBLE ADVENTURE. which led to Jack's being definitely relieved of the care of his canine friends. Two years had passed, when one morning Jack was calmly strolling along the road accompanied by Juno and Bess. A gig came rapidly along containing two young bagmen, as commercial travellers were still called in Stokebridge. The driver, seeing a child with two dogs, conceived that this was a favourable opportunity for a display of that sense of playful humour whose point lies in the infliction of pain on others, without any danger of personal consequences to the inflictor. With a sharp sweep he brought down his whip across Jack's back, managing to include Bess in the stroke. Jack set up a shout of mingled pain and indignation, and stooping for d. stone, hurled it after the man who had struck him. Bess's response to the assault upon her was silent, but as prompt and far more effectual. With two springs she was beside the horse, and leap- ing up caught it by the nostrils and dragged it to the ground. Juno at once joined in the fray, and made desperate attempts to climb into the gig and seize its inmates, who had nearly been thrown out as the horse fell. Recovering himself, the driver, pale with terror, clubbed his whip, and struck at Juno with the butt- end. " Don't 'ee hit her," Jack cried as he arrived on the spot; "if thou dost she'll tear 'ee limb from limb." THE POWER OF SNUFF. 23 " Call the brute off, you little rascal," cried the other, " it's killing the horse." " Thou'd best keep a civil tongue in thy head," the child said coolly, " or it will be bad for 'ee. What did 'ee hit I and Bess for ? It would serve 'ee roight if she had pinned 'ee instead o' t' horse." " Call them off," the fellow shouted as Juno's teeth met in close proximity to his leg. " It be all very well to say call 'em orf," Jack said, "but they doan't moind I much. Have 'ee got a strap?" The man hastily threw down a strap, and this Jack passed through Juno's collar, she being too absorbed in her efforts to climb into the gig to heed what the child was doing; then he buckled it to the wheel. "Noo," he said, "ye can light down t' other side. She caan't reach 'ee there." The young men leapt down, and ran to the head of the horse; the poor brute was making frantic efforts to rise, but the bull-dog held him down with her whole might. Jack shouted and pulled, but in vain; Bess paid no attention to his voice. "Can you bite his tail?" one of the frightened men said; "I've heard that is good." " Boite her tail!" Jack said in contempt; " doan't yer see she's a full-bred un; ye moight boite her tail off, and she would care nowt about 't. I've got summat here that may do." He drew out a twisted paper from his pocket. 1 i! 24 A NARROW ESCAPE. "This is snuff," he said; "if owt will make her loose, this will. Now one o' yer take holt by her collar on each side, and hoult tight, yer know, or she'll pin ye when she leaves go o' the horse. Then when she sneezes you pull her orf, and hoult fast." The fear of the men that the horse would be killed overpowered their dread of the dog, and each took a firm grip upon its collar. Then Jack placed a large pinch of snuff to its nostrils. A minute later it took effect, the iron jaws unclosed with a snap, and in an instant Bess was snatched away from the horse, which, delivered from its terrible foe, sank back groaning on the road. Bess made the most furious attempts to free herself from her captors, but in vain, and Juno strained desperately at the strap to come to the assistance of her offspring. "Ha* ye got another strap?" Jack asked. " There's a chain in the box under the seat." Jack with some diflftculty and an amount of deliber- ation for which the men could gladly have slain him, climbed up into the gig, and presently came back with the chain. " Noo tak* her round to t* other side o' gig," he said; we'll fasten her just as Juno is." When Bess was securely chained to the wheel the men ran to raise the horse, who lay with its head in a pool of blood. " There's a pond in yon field," Jack said, " if *ee wants water." JACK S TRIUMPHANT PROCESSION. 26 After Bess was secured Jack had slipped round to Juno, and kept his hand upon the buckle in readiness to loose her should any attempt be made upon his personal safety. The men, however, were for the moment too scared to think of him. It was some time before the horse was got on to its legs, with a wet cloth wrapped round its bleed>ng wound. Fortunately Bess's grip had included the bit-strap as well as the nostrils, and this had somewhat lessened the serious nature of the hurt. Jack had by this time pacified the dogs, and when the men looked round, after getting the horse on to its legs, they were alarmed to see him standing by quietly holding the dogs by a strap passing through their collar. "Doan't 'ee try to get into that ere cart," he said; "you've got to go wi' me back to Stokebridge to t' lock-oop for hitting I and Bess. Now do you walk quietly back and lead t' horse, and oi'U walk beside 'ee, and if thou mov'st, or tries to get away, oi'll slip t* dogs, you see if I doan't." " You little villain," began one of the men furiously, but a deep growl from Bess in reply to the angry tone at once silenced him; and burning with rage they turned the hprse's head back towards the village and walked on, accompanied by Jack and his dogs on guard. The arrival of this procersion created much excite- ment, and a crowd of women and children soon :il 26 THE ARM OF THE LAW. gathered. Jack, however, serenely indifferent to ques- tions and shouts, proceeded coolly on his way until he arrived at the residence of the local constable, who, hearing the din, appeared at his door. "Maister Johnson," the child says, "I give them chaps in charge for saulting I and Bess." " And we give this little ruffian in charge," shouted the men, secure that, in face of the constable and crowd. Jack could not loose his terrible bull-dogs, " for setting his dogs at us, to the risk of our lives and the injury of our horse, which is so much hurt that we believe it will have to be killed." Just at this moment Bill Haden — who had returned from work at the moment that a boy running in reported that there was a row, that a horse was covered wi' blood, and two chaps all bluidy over t* hands and clothes, were agoing along wi' Jack and t' dorgs oop street to lock-oop — arrived upon the spot. " What's oop, lad? " he asked as he came up. " They chaps hit I and Bess, dad, and Bess pinned t' horse, and Juno would ha' pinned *em boath hadn't I strapped she oop, and then we got Bess orf, and I brought 'em back to t' lock-oop." " How dar 'ee hit my lad ? " Bill Haden said angrily, stepping forward threateningly. " Look oot, dad, or t' dogs will be at *em again," Jack shouted. Bill seized the strap from the child's hand, and with a stem word silenced the dogs. BEFORE THE MAGISTRATE. 27 "Well/' the constable said, "I can't do nowt but bring both parties afore Mr. Brook i' the morning. I suppose I needn't lock *ee all oop. Bill, will you bind yourself to produce Jack Simpson t'morrow ? " " Ay," said Bill, " oi'U produce him, and he'll produce hisself, I'm thinking; seems to me as Jack be able to take 's own part." This sally was received with laughter and applause, for local feeling was very strong in Stokebridge, and a storm of jeers and rough chaff were poured upon the bagmen for having been brought in prisoners by a child. " Thee'd best get away to th' inn," the constable said, " else they'll be a stoaning thee next. There be only two on us here, and if they takes to *t we sha'n't be able to do much." So the men, leading their horse, went off to the Inn, groaned and hooted at by the crowd on the way. On their arrival a messenger was at once sent off for a veterinary surgeon who resided some four miles away. On the following morning the parties to the quarrel, the two bagmen and the injured horse on the one hand, and Jack Simpson with the two bull-dogs under charge of Bill Haden on the other, appeared before Mr. Brook, owner of the Vaughan pit and a county magistrate. Jack first gave his account of the transaction, clearly and with much decision. " I war a walking along quiet wi' t* dogs," he said, " when I hears a cart a coming from Stokebridge. I 1 38. OCULAR EVIDENCEL looks round and seed they* two chaps, but didn't mind no further about it till as they came oop that sandy- haired chap as was a driving lets me and Bess ha one which made me joomp, I can tell 'ee. Bess she pinned the horse, and Juno she tried to get into t' cart at *em. They were joost frighted, they hollers, and yawps, and looks as white as may be. I fastens Juno oop wi' a strap and they houlds Bess while I poot some snoof t' her nose." "Put what?" Mr. Brook asked. "Joost a pinch of snoof, sir. I heard feyther say as snoof would make dogs loose, and so I bought a haporth and carried it in my pocket, for th* dogs don't moind oi when they are put oot. And then they gets horse oop and I makes 'em come back to t' lock-oop, but maister Johnson," he said, looking reproachfully at the constable, " wouldn't lock 'em oop as I wanted him." There was some laughter a;nong the audience, and even the magistrate smiled. The young men then gave their story. They denied point blank that either of them had struck Jack, and described him as having set his dog purposely on the horse. Jack had loudly contradicted them, shouting, 'That's a lee;' but had been ordered to silence. Then drawing back he slipped off his jacket and shirt, and when the evidence was closed he marched forward up to the magistrate bare to the waist. "Look at moi back," he said; "that 'ull speak for itsell" JACK AND THE "DOKGs" PART COMPANY. 29 It did; there was a red weal across the shoulder, and an angry hiss ran through the court at the prisoners, which was with difficulty suppressed. " After what I have seen," Mr. Brook said, " there is no doubt whatever in my mind that the version given by this child is the correct one, and that you committed a cowardly and unprovoked assault upon him. For this you," he said to the man who had driven the horse, "are fined £5 or a month's imprisonment. It is a good thing that cowardly fellows like you should be punished occasionally, and had it not been that your horse had been severely injured I should have com- mitted you to prison without option of a fine. Against you," he said to the other, " there is no evidence of assault. The charge against the child is dismissed, but it is for the father to consider whether he will pro- secute you for perjury. At the same time I think that dogs of this powerful and ferocious kind ought not to be allowed to go out under the charge of a child like this." The man paid the fine; but so great was the indig- nation of the crowd that the constable had to escort them to the railway-station; in spite of this they were so pelted and hustled on the way that they were miserable figures indeed when they arrived there. And so Jack was released from all charge of the "dorgs," and benefited by the change. New friendships for children of his own age took the place of that for the dogs, and he soon took part in their games, and, 80 QUIET TIMES. from the energy and violence with which, when once excited, he threw himself into them, became quite a popular leader. Mrs. Haden rejoiced over the change; for he was now far more lively and more like other children than he had been, although still generally silent except when addressed by her and drawn into talk. He was as fond as ever of the dogs, but that fondness was now a part only instead of the dominating passion of his existence. And so months after months went on and no event of importance occurred to alter the current of Jack Simpson's life. |i! ^:ssras:Bs;ss:2i5:i j:ss2s:Es:S5TBS^asS5Ts]Ml iSS3iek!^£l^tt£: im^njfmi »ji!r4B:di' mM^sii^i- >-M. ^|P|^as:g:5:H:5^g:5:BS[:gs^s:g:5T^s^sas:a:sa:sj[^ CHAPTER IIL THE RESOLUTION. |»§lN artist sitting in the shade under a tree, painting a hit of rustic gate and a lane hright with many honeysuckles. Presently he is conscious of a movement behind him, and looking round, sees a sturdily built boy of some ten years of age, with an old bull-dog lying at his feet, and another standing by his side, watching him. " Well, lad, what are you doing?" " Nowt!" said the boy promptly. " I mean," the artist said with a smile, " have you anything to do? if not, I will give you sixpence to sit still on that gate for a quarter of an hour. I want a figure." The boy nodded, took his seat without a word, and remained perfectly quiet while the artist sketched him in. "That will do for the present," the artist said. " You can come and sit down here and look at me at work if you like; but if you have nothing to do for an hour, don't go away, as I shall want you again I I 32 "BULL-DOO" FINDS A FRIEND. i (, M presently. Here is the sixpence; you will have an- other if you'll wait. What's your name?" he went on, as the boy threw himself down on the grass, with his head propped up on his elbows. "Bull-dog," the lad said promptly; and then colour- ing up, added " at least they call me Bull-dog, but my right name be Jack Simpson." " And why do they call you Bull-dog, Jack?" The artist had a sympathetic voice and spoke in tones of interest, and the lad answered frankly: " Mother — that is, my real mother — she died when I wore a little kid, and Juno here, she had pups at the time — not that one, she's Flora, three years old she be — and they used to pretend she suckled me. It hain't likely, be it?" he asked, as if after all he was not quite sure about it himself. "Schoolmaster says as how it's writ that there was once two little rum'uns, suckled by a wolf, but he can't say for sure that it's true. Mother says it's all a lie, she fed me from a bottle. But they called me Bull-dog from that, and because Juno and me always went about together; and now they call me so because," and he laughed, "I take a good lot of licking before I gives in." " You've been to school, I suppose. Jack ?" "Yes, I've had five years schooling," the boy said carelessly. , "And do you like it?" "I liked it well enough; I learnt pretty easy, and so 'scaped many hidings. Dad says it was cos my d* A WHtspEti Of Aiimtiou. 11 d y ■•■ mother were a schoolmaster's dau'j:hter afore she mar- ried my father, and so learning's in the blood, and comes natural. But I'm done with school now, and am going down the pit next week." "What are you going to do there? You are too young for work." " Oh, I sha'n't have no work to do int* pit, not hard work — just to open and shut a door when the tubs go through." "You mean the coal-waggons?" " Ay, the tubs," the boy said. " Then in a year or two I shall get to be a butty, that ull be l)etter pay; then I shall help dad in his stall, and at last 1 shall be on full wages." "And after that?" the artist asked. The lad looked puzzled. " What will you look forward to after that ?* " I don't know that there's nowt else," the boy said, "except perhaps some day I might, perhaps — but it ain't likely — but I might get to be a viewer." "But why don't you make up your mind to be something better still, Jack — a manager?" "What!" exclaimed the boy incredulously; "a man- ager, like /enton, who lives in that big house on the hill! Why, he's a gentleman." " Jack," the artist said, stopping in his work now, an i i ?! F ' I '■( i; ! I "That's quite right, Jack, whoever told you. Hard work, study, thrift, and intelligence will take any lad from the; bottom of the tree to the top. And you are quite in earnest, Jack?" "Quite, sir." The schoolmaster sat in silence for a little tima " Well, my boy, for a bit you must work ac ordinary scliool -books, and get a fair general knowledge, and be careful to observe the way tilings are expressed — the grammar, I mean; read aloud when you are alone, and try in speaking to get rid of " thees" and " thous," and other mistakes of speech. I can lend you ordinary school-books, fit for you for the next four or five years, and will always explain any difficulties you may meet with. The books you will want afterwards you can buy second-hand at Wolverhampton or Birmingham. But there will be time to talk about that hereafter. What time have you to study? You have gone into the Vaughan pit, have you not?" " Yes, sir. I ha' time enough all day. for I ha' nowt t<^ do but just to open and shut a door when the tubs come along; but I ha' no light." " The time must seem very long in the dark all day." "It do seem long, sir; and it will be wuss when I want to read, and know I am just wasting time. But I can read at home after work, when dad goes out. It's light now, and 1 could read out o' doors till nine o'clock. Mother v/ould give me a candle now and again; and I BfENTAL ARITHMETIO. 61 all m I But It's lock. I should get on first rate in the pit, but the Vauglian is a fiery veir., and they ha* nowt but Daveys." "Well, my bey, here are a few books, v;hich will suit you for a t'me. Let me know how you are getting on; and when you have mastered the books, let me know. Remember you want to learn them thoroughly, and not just well enough to rub through without getting the strap. But don't overdo it. You are a very small boy yet, and it is of as much importance for your future life that you should grow strong in body as well as in brain. So you must not give up play. If you were to do nothing but sit in the dark, and to study at all other times, you would soon become a fool. So you must give time to play as well as to work. Remember, do not be cast down with difficul- ties; they will pass by if you face them. There is an old saying, *God helps those who help then/selves.' And look here, Jack I can tell you the best 's^ray to make the time pass quickly while you are in the dark. Set yourself sums to do in your head. You will find it difficult at first, but it will come easier with practice, and as you get on I will give you a book on 'mental arithmetic,' and you will find that there is nothing more useful than being able to make com- plicated calculations in your head." Ihe next six months passed quickly with Jack Simpson. He started early with his father for the pit, and the hours tiiere, which at first had seemed so long, slipped by rapidly as he multiplied, and added. 02 THE SCHOOLMASl.. . R£MEMBSRS JAOK. t and subtracted, finding that he could daily master longer lines of figures. Of an afternoon he played with the other pit boys, and after that worked steadily at his books till eleven o'clock, two hours after Bill Haden &nd his wife had gone to bed. Once a week he went in the evening to Mr. Merton, who was astonished at the progress that the boy was making, and willingly devoted an hour to explaining difficulties and helping him on with his work. Satisfied now that the boy was in earnest, Mr. Merton a few days afterwards took occasion, when Mr. Brook, the owner of the Vaughan mine, called in on school business, to tell him how one of the pit boys was striving to educate himself. *'He is really in earnest, Merton; it is not a mere fieak?'* *' No, Mr. Brook, the lad will stick to it, I'm sure. He goes by the nickname of Bull-dog, and I don't think he is badly named; he has both the pluck and the tenacity of one." "Very well, Merton; I am glad you spoke to me about it. I w^ish a few more boys would try and educate themselves for viewers and underground managers; it is difficult indeed to get men who are anything but working miners. I'll make a note of his name." A few days afterwards Mr. Brook, after going through the books, went over the mine with the under- ground manager. A TREASURE IN A LAMP. 6S 6 " Do the waorjrons often oct off the metals alonj; this road, Evans?" he asked, stopping at one of the doors which regulate the ventilation. "Pretty often, sir; the rails are not very true, and the sleepers want renewing." " It would be as well if there were an extra light somewhere here; it would be handy. This is Number Ten door, is it not?" "Yes sir." "Who is this? a new hand, is he not?" raising his lamp so as to have a full look at the lad, who was standing respectfully in the niche in the rock cut for him. " Yes, sir; he is the son of a hand who was killed in the pit some ten years ago — Simpson." "Ah! I remember," Mr. Brooks said. "Well, serve the boy a lamp out when he goes down of a day. You'll be careful with it, lad, and not let it fall? " " Oh yes, sir," Jack said, in a tone of delight; "and, please, sir, may I read when I am not wanted?" "Certainly you may," his master said; "only you must not neglect your work;" and then Mr. Brook went on, leaving Jack so overjoy ea that tor that after- noon at least his attempts at mental arithmetic were egregious failures. )ing ler- CHAPTER VL "THE OLD SHAFT." N the corner of a rough piece of ground near the " ^^ siughan " was situated what was known as the old shaft. It had been made many years before, with a view to working coal there. The owners of the Vaughan, which at the time was just commencing work, had, however, bought up the ground, and as it adjoined their own and could be worked in connection with it, they stopped the sinking here. This was so long ago that the rub- bish which had formed a mound round the mouth of the shaft had been long covered with vegetation, and a fence placed round the pit had fallen into decay. * The shaft had been sunk some fifty fathoms, but was, now full of water, to within forty feet of the sur- face. Some boards covered the top, and the adven- turous spirits among thft boys would drop stones through the openings between them, and litten to the splash as they struck the water below, or would light piecep of paper and watch them falling into the dark- 'I A ROUGH GAME— THE ATTACK. Sfl ness, until they disappeared suddenly as they touched the water. The winch used in the jirocess of excavation remained and round it was a portion of the chain so old and rusty as to be worthless for any purpose wliatever. Lengths had from time to time been broken off bj boys, who would unwind a portion, and then, three or four pull together until the rust-eaten links gave way; and the boys came to the ground with a crash. It was a dirty game, however, dirty even for pit boys, for the yellow rust would stick to hands and clothes and be very difficult to remove. One Saturday afternoon a group of boys and girls of from ten to fourteen were playing in the field. Presently it was proposed to play king of the castle, or a game akin thereto, half a dozen holding the cir- cular mound round the old pit, while the rest attacked them and endeavoured to storm the position. For some time the game went on with much shouting on the part of the boys and shrill shr'eks from the girls, as they were pulled or pushed down the steep bank. .^ "Let us make a charge a' together/' said Jack Simpson, who although not thirteen was the leader of the attacking party. Then heading the rush he went at full speed at the castle. Harry Shepherd, who was one of the defenders, was at the top, but Jack had so much impetus that he gained his footing and thrust Harry violently back- wards. 5tf HARRY SHEPHERD FALLS DOWN THE SHAFT. The top of the bank was but three feet wide, and within sloped down to the mouth of the old pit shaft, fifteen feet below. Harry tottered, and to avoid falling backwards turned and with great strides ran down the bank. He was unable to arrest his course, but went through the rotten fence and on to the boarding of the shaft. There was a crash, a wild '^ry, and Harry disappeared from the sight of his horror-stricken companions. The rotten wood-work had given way and the boy had fallen into the old shaft. A panic seized the players, some rushed away at the top of their speed shouting, "Harry Shepherd has fallen down the old shaft!" others stood paralysed on the top of the mound; girls screamed and cried. Two only appeared to have possession of their wits. The one was Jack Simpson, the other was a girl of about twelve, Nelly Hardy. Jack did not hesitate an instant, but quickly ran down to the shaft, Nelly more quietly, but with an earnest set face, followed him. Jack threw himself down by the edge and peered down the shaft. « Harry, Harry," he shouted, " bee'st killed ?" A sort of low cry came up. "He be alive, he be drowning," Jack exclaimed, •* quick, get oft them boords." Nelly at once attempted to aid Jack to lift the boards aside. "Coom," Jack shouted to the boys on the top, \ I •f NELLY HARDY — " BULL-DOG*' TO THE RESCUE 1 67 sort led, the X V "what bee'st feared of? Thou art shamed by this lass here. Coom along and help us." Several of the boys hurried down, stung by Jack's taunt, and half the boards were sooji pulled off. « Wh'it bee'st goin' to do. Jack ? ' " Go down, to be sure," Jack said. " Catch hold c* th* windlass." " The chain woan't hold you, Jack." " It maun hold me," Jack said. " It woan't hold two, Jack." " Lower away and hold thee jaw," Jack said; " 1 am going to send him up first if he be alive; lower away, I say. Jack caught hold of the end of the rusty chain, and the boys lowered away as rapidly as they could. Jack held on stoutly, and continued to shout, " Hold on, Harry, I be a-coniing; another minute and I'll be with 'ee." The chain held firmly, and Jack swung downward safely. The shaft was of considerable size, and the openings in the planks had enabled the air to circulate freely, consequently there was no bad air. As Jack reached the water he looked eagerly round, and then gave a cry of joy. Above the water he saw a hand grasping a pro- jecting piece of rock. Harry could not swim, but he had grasped the edge 9f a projecting stone near which he had fallen, and 58 CAN HE HOLD ONI i: ' i ' wlicn liis str('ii_;2:tli liad failed, and he had sunk below tlic su.race, his hand still ivtaijicd its ^rasp. " Lower away," Jack shouted, and the chain was slackened. Jack could swim a little, just enough to cross the St(»kel>i-idge Canal where the water was only out of his dejitli for some fifteen feet in the middle. First he to(»k otl his handkerchief from his neck, a strono: cotton u.idseye, and keeping hold of th*^ chiiu before hiiu swam to the spot where i^he hand was above water. He had a terrible fear of its slipping and disappearing below the dark pool, and was careful to iriake a firm grasp at it. He was surprised to find the body was of no weight. Without a moment s delay he managed to bind the wrist fast to the chain with his handkerchief. ** Above there," he shouted. " Ay," came down. " Wind up veiy steadily, don't jerk it now." Slovvly the winch revolved and the body began to rise from the water. Jack clung to the stone which Harry had grasped and looked upwards. He wondered vaguely whether it would ever reach the top; he wondered whether the arm w^ould pull out of the socket, and the body plump down into tlie v/ater; he wondered how long he could hold on, and why his clothes seemed so heavy. He wondered whether, if his strength went before the chain came down again, his hand would hold on as Harry's had done, or whether he should go down to the I 161 IN THE OLD SHAFT— WILL HE BE SAVED? saved! bottom of the slmft. How far was it! Fifty fatlioms, three hunt lied feet; he was fifty below the nioutli. two hundred and fifty to sinlc; how long would his body be getting to the bottom? What would his mother and Bill Haden say ? Would they ever try to get his body up ? He was growing very weak. As from another world he had heard the shout from above when the body of Harry Shepherd reached hhe brink, and afterwards some vague murmura. Presently his fingers slipped and he went down in the black pool. The chill of the water to his face, the sudden choking sensation, brought his senses back for a moment and he struck to the surface. There, touching the water, he saw the chain, and as he grasped it, heard the shouts of his comrades above calling to him. He was himself again now. The chain being some feet below the surface he managed to pass it round him, and to twist it in front. He was too exhausted to shout. He saw a great piece of paper on fire fluttering down, and heard a shout as its light showed him on the end of the chain; then he felt a jar and felt him- self rising from the water; after that he knew nothing more until he opened his eyes and found himself lying on the bank. Nelly Hardy was kneeling by him and his head was in her lap. He felt various hands rubbing him and slapping the palms of his hands; his animation was quickly restored. He had swallowed but little JAOK THE HERO. water, and it was the close air of the shaft which had overpowered him. "Hallo!" he said, shaking himself, "let me up, I be all right; how's Harry?" Harry had not yet come round, though some of them, trying to restore him to consciousness, said that they had heard him breathe once. Jack as usual took the command, ordered all but two or three to stand back, told Nelly Hardy to lift Harry's head and undo his shirt, stripped him to the waist, and then set the boys to work to rub vigorously on his chest. Whether the efforts would have been successful is doubtful, but at this moment there was a sound of hurrying feet and of rapid wheels. Those who had started at the first alarm had reached the village and told the news, and most fortunately had met the doctor as he drove in from his rounds. A man with a rope had leaped into the gig, and the doctor as he drove off had shouted that hot blankets were to be prepared. When he reached the spot and heard that Harry had been brought to bank, he leapt out, climbed the mound, wrapped him in his coat, carried him down to his gig, and then drove back at full speed to Stoke- bridge, where with the aid of hot blankets and stimu- lants the lad was brought back to consciousness. Jack Simpson was the hero of the hour, and the pitmen, accustomed to face death as they were, yet marvelled at a boy trusting himself to a chain which A PUBLIO REWARD. #1 nrhich , I be me of iihat 1 took 8ta.nd I undo ct the hether ul, but let and eached inately •ounds. d the lankets 1 Harry led the >wn to iStoke- Istimu- id the re, yet which looked unfit to bear its own weight only, and into the depth of a well where the air might have been unfit to breathe. Jack strenuously, and indeed angrily, disclaimed all credit whatever. " I didn't think nowt about the chain, nor the air, nor the water neither. I thought only o' Harry. It was me as had pushed him down, and I'd got to bring him oop. If I hadn't a gone down Nelly Hardy would ha* gone, though she be a lass and doan't know how to swim or to hold on by a chain, or nowt; but she'd ha' gone, I tell e'e, if I hadn't; I saw it in her face. She didn't say nowt, but she was ready to go. If she hadn't gone down to th' shaft none of them would ha gone. She's a rare plucked 'un, she is, I tell e'e." But in spite of Jack's indignant repudiation of any credit, the brave action was the talk of Stokebridge and of the neighbouring pit villages for some time. There are no men appreciate bravery more keenly than pit- men, for they themselves are ever ready to risk their lives to save those of others. Consequently a sub- scription, the limit of which was sixpence and the minimum a penny, was set on foot, and a fortnight later Jack was presented with a gold watch with an inscription. This was presented in the school -room, and Mr. Brook, who presided at the meeting, added on his own account a chain to match. It needed almost force on the part of Bill Haden to compel Jack to be present 62 JACK POINTS OUT THE HEROINE. on this occasion. When he was led up, flushed with confusion, to Mr. Brook, amid the cheers of the crowd of those in the room, he listened with head hung down to the remarks of his employer. When that gentleman finished and held out the watch and chain, Jack drew back and held up his head. "I doan't loike it, sir; I pushed Harry in, and in course T went down to pick him out; besides, Harry's ray chum, he be; was it loikely I should stand by and he drowning? I tell 'ee, sir, that you ain't said a word about the lass Nelly Hardy; she had pluck, she had. The boys ran away or stood and stared, but she came dcwn as quiet as may be. I tell 'ee, sir, her face was pale, but she was as steady and as still as a man could ha' been, and did as I told her wi'out stopping for a moment and wi'out as much as saying a word. She'd ha* gone down if I'd told her to. Where be ye, Nelly Hardy? coom oot and let me show ye to Mr. Brook." But Nelly, who was indeed in the building, had shrunk away when Jack began to speak, and having gained the door, was on the point of flying, when she was seized and brought forward, looking shamefaced and tullen. " That be her, sir," Jack said triumphantly, " and I say this vratch and chain ought to be hers, for ehe did much more for a lass than I did for a boy, and had no call to do't as I had." \ BILL hade:<'s pride. had iving In she Ifaccd " I cannot give them to her, Jack," Mr. Brook said, " for the watch has been subscribed for you ; but as a token of my appreciation of the bravery and presence of mind she has shown, I will myself present her with a silver watch and chain, with an inscription saying why it was given to her, and this she will, I am sure, value all her life." Perhaps she would, but at present her only thpught was to get away. Her hair was all rough, she had on a tattered dress, and had only slipped in when those in charge of the door were intent upon hearing Mr. Brook's address. Without a word of thanks, the instant the hands restraining her were loosetl she dived into the crowd and escaped like a bird from a snare. Satisfied that justice had been done, Jack now said a few words of thanks to his employer and the sub- scribers to his present, and the meeting then broke up. Jack returning with Bill Haden and his mother, both beaming with delight. " I be roight down glad, lad, I doan't know as I've been so glad since Juno's dam won the first prize for pure-bred bull-dogs at the Birmingham show. It seem^ joost the same sort o' thing, doan t it, Jane?" Lnd I le did id no in CHAPTER VIL FRIENDSHIP. i B ^%?j^.iLi ELLY HARDY had been unfortunate in her parents, for both drank, and she had grown up without care or supervision. She had neither brother nor sister. At school she was always either at the top or bottom of her class according as a fit of diligence or idleness seized her. She was a wild passionate child, feeling bitterly the neglect with which she was treated, her ragged clothes, her unkempt appearance. She was feared and yet liked by the girls of her own age, for she was generous, always ready to do a service, and good-tempered except when excited to passion. She was fonder of joining with the boys, when they would let her, in their games, and, when angered, was ready to hold her own against them with tooth and nail. So wild were her bursts of passion that they were sources of amusement to some of the l^oys, until Jack upon one occasion took her part, and fought and con- quered the boy who had excited her. This was on the Saturday before the accident had taken place. 1 I NELLY BARDY's ANGEA. 65 her. the othes, liked erous, xcept )iiiing their r own For some da3rs after the presentation no one saw her; she kept herself shut up in the house or wandered far away. Then she appeared suddenly before Jack Simpson and Harry Shepherd as they were out together. " I hate you, Jack Simpson," she said, " I hate you, I hate you;" and then dashed through the gap in the hedge by which she had come. " Well," Harry exclaimed in astonishment, " only to think!" " It be natural enough," Jack said, " and I hain't sur- prised one bit. I orter ha' known better. I had only to ha'joodged he'* by myself and I should ha* seen ii I hated being dragged forward and talked at; it was bad enough though I had been made decent and clean scrubbed all over, and got my Soonday clothes on, but of course it would be worse for a lass anyway, and she was all anyhow, not expecting it. I ought to ha* known better; I thawt only o* i^'y own feelings and not o* hers, and I'd beg her pardon a hundred times, but 'taint likely she'd forgive me. What is she a doing now?" The lads peered through the hedge. Far across the field, on the bank, the other side, lay what looked like a bundle of clothes. " She be a crying, I expect," Jack said remorsefully. "I do wish some big chap would a come along and give I a hiding; I wouldn't fight, or kick, or do nowt, I would just take it, it would serve me roight. I (lei) 1 66 jack's humble apology. wonder whether it would do her any good to let hei thrash me. If it would she'd be welcome. Look here, Harry, she hain't angry wi' you. Do thou go across to her and tell her how main sorry I be, and that I know I am a selfish brute and thought o' myself and not o' her, and say that if she likes I will cut her a stick any size she likes and let her welt me just as long as she likes wi'out saying a word." Harry was rather loath to go on such an errand, but being imperatively ordered by Jack he, as usual, did as his comrade wished. When he approached Nelly Hardy he saw that the girl was crying bitterly, her sobs shaking her whole body. " I be coom wi' a message," he began in a tone of apprehension, for he regarded Nelly as resembling a wild cat in her dangerous and unexpected attacks. The girl leapt to her feet and turned her flushed tear-stained cheeks and eyes, flashing with angei through the tears, upon him. " What dost want, Harry Shepherd? Get thee gone, or I'll tear the eyes from thy head." "I doan't coom o' my own accord," Harry said steadily, though he recoiled a little before her fierce outburst. " I came on the part o' Jack Simpson, and I've got to gi' you his message even if you do fly at me. I've got to tell you that he be main sorry, and that he feels he were a selfish brute in a thinking o' his own feelings instead o' thine. He says he be so sorry that if 'ee like he'll cut a stick o' any size you choose PREPARING FOR PUNISHMENT. 67 of said fierce and ly at and |o* his sorry Ihoase and uU let you welt him as long as you like wi'out saying a word. And when Jack says a thing he means it, so if you wants to wop him, come on." To Harry's intense surprise the girl's mood changed. She dropped on the ground again, and again began to cry. After standing still for some time and seeing no abatement in her sobs, or any sign of her carrying out the invitation of which he had been the bearer, Jack's emissary returned to him. " I guv her your message, Jack, and she saia nowt, but there she be a crying still." "Perhaps she didn't believe you," Jack said; "I'd best go myself." First, with great deliberation. Jack chose a hazel stick from the hedge and tried it critically. When fully assured that it was at once lissom and tough, and admirably adapted for his purpose, he told Harry to go on home. " Maybe," Jack said, " she mayn't loike to use it and you a looking on. Doan't 'ee say a word to no un. If she likes to boast as she ha' welted me she ha' a roight to do so, but doan't you say nowt." Jack walked slowly across the field till he was close to the figure on the ground. Then he quietly remov^'^ his jacket and waistcoat and laid them down. Then he said: "Now, Nelly, I be ready for a welting, I ha* de- served it if v<)ver a chap did, and I'll take it Here's 61 A BRAVB FRIENDSHIP. it !; the stiok* and he's a good un and will sting rare, I Warrant." The girl sat up and looked at him through her tears. " Oh, Jack, and didst really think I wanted to welt thee?" " I didn't know whether thou didst or no, Nelly, but thou said thou hate'st me, and wi' good reason, so if thou likest to welt me here's the stick." The girl laughed through her tears. "Ah! Jack, thou must think that I am a wild cat, as John Dobson called me t'other day. Throw away that stick. Jack. I would rather a thousand times that thou laidst it on my shoulders than I on thine." Jack threw away the stick, put on his coat and waistcoat, and sat down on the bank. "What is it then, lass? I know I were cruel to have thee called forward, but I didn't think o't; but I had rather that thou beat me as I orter be beaten, than that thou should go on hating me." " I doan't hate thee. Jack, though I said so; I hate myself; but I like thee better nor all, thou art so brave *nd good." " No braver than thou, Nelly," Jack said earnestly; " I doan't understand why thou should first say thou hates me and then that thou doan't; but if thou are in earnest, that thou likest me, we'll be friends. I don't mean that we go for walks together, and such like, as some boys and girls do, for I ha' no time for such things, and I shouldn't like it even if I had; but I'll GOOD FAITH. 69 take thy part if anyone says owt to thee, and thou shalt tell me when thou art very bad at hoam" — for the failings of Nelly's parents were public property. " Thou shalt be a friend to me, not as a lass would be, but as Harry is, and thou woan't mind if I blow thee up, and tells 'ee of things. Thou stook to me by the side o' the shaft, and I'll stick to thee." " I'll do that," the girl said, laying her hand in his. " I'll be thy friend if thou'lt let me, not as lasses are, but as lads." And so the friendship was ratified, and they walked back tof^ether to the villaije. When he came to think it over, Jack was inclined to repent his bar- gain, for he feared that she would attach herself to him, and that he would have much laughter to endure, and many battles to fight. To his surprise Nelly did nothing of the sort. She would be at her door every morning as he went by to the pit and give him a nod, and again as he returned. Whenever other girls and boys were playing or sitting together, Nelly would make one of the group. If he said, as he often did say, " You, Nell Hardy come and sit by me," she came gladly, but she never claimed the place. She was ready to come or to go, to run messages and to do him good in any way. Jack had promised she should be his friend as Harry was, and as he got to like her more he would ask her or tell her to accompany them in their walks, or to sit on a low wall in some quiet corner anv5 talk. it 70 NELLY S FIRST LESSON. Harry, stirred by his friend's example, had begun to epend half an hour a day over his oM school-books. "Why dost like larning so much, Jack?" Nelly asked, as Jack was severely reproaching his friend with not having looked at a book for some days; "what good do it do?" "It >,' 'se3 folk in thf wo 11, Ne'l, elps 'em make their way up." "And dost thou mean to get caj^ i !, *» world?" "Ay, lass," Jack said, "if hard work can do it, I will; but it does more nor that. If a man knows things and loves reading it makes him different like, he's got summat to think about and talk about and care for beside public-houses and dorgs. Canst read, Nell?" " No, Jack," she said, colouring. " It hain't my fault; mother never had the pence to spare for schooling, and I was kept at hoam to help." Jack sat thoughtful for some time. "Wouldst like to learn?" "Ay." "Well, I'll teach thee." "Oh, Jack!" and she leapt up with flashing eyes; "how good thou be'est!" "Doan't," Jack said crossly; "what be there good in teaching a lass to spell? There's twopence, run down to the comer shop and buy a spelling-book; we'll begin at once." And so Nelly had her first lesson. "V ! THE FORCE OF GOOD EXAMPLE. 71 to A^ter that, every afternoon, as Jack came home fror ^ork, the girl would meet hiui in a quiet corner off the general line, and for five ainutes he would teacli her, not hearing her say what she had learned, but telling her fresh sounds and combinations of letters. Five or six timos iie would go over them, and expected — for Jack was tyrannical in his ways — that she would carry them away with her and learn them by heart, and go through them again and again, so that when he questioned her during their longer talks she would be perfect. Then, the five minutes over, Jack would run on to make up for lost time, and be in as soon as Bil] Hpden. But however accurately Jack expected his pupil to learn, his expectations were surpassed. The girl be- yond clearing up the room had nothing to do, and she devoted herself with enthusiasm to this work. Once she had mastered simple words and felt her own pro- gress, her shyness as to her ignorance left her. She always carried her book in her pocket, and took to asking girls the pronunciation of larger words, and begging them to read a few lines to her; and sitting on the door-step poring over her book, she would salute any passer-by with: "Please tell us what is that word." When she could read easily, which she learned to do in two or three months, she borrowed left-off school-books from the girls, and worked slowly on, and two years later had made iip for all her early w li^!i 71 *k with Mi. Merton, and his extensive reading, had modified his rough Staffordshire dialect, and when with his mas- ter he spoke correct English almost free of provincial- isms, although with his comrades of the pit he spoke as they spoke, and never introduced any allusion to his A "SUM IN HIS HBAD." 77 studies. All questions as to his object in spending his evenings with his books were turned aside with joking answers, but his comrades had accidentally discovered that he possessed extraordinary powers of calculation. One of the lads had vaguely said that he wondered how many buckets of water +here were in the canal between Stokebridge and Birmingham, a distance of eighteen miles, and Jack, without seeming to think of what he was doing, almost instantaneously gave the answer to the question. For a moment all were silent with surprise "I suppose that be a guess, Jack, eh?" Fred Orme asked. " Noa," Jack said, "that's aboot roight, though I be sorry I said it; I joost reckoned it in my head." "But how didst do that, Jack?" his questioner asked, astonished, while the boys standing round stared in silent wonder. "Oh! in my head," Jack said carelessly; "it be easy enough to reckon in your head if you practise a little." " And canst do any sum in thy head, Jack, as quick as that?" "Not any sum, but anything easy, say up to the multiplication or divison by eight figures." " Let's try him," one boy said. " All right, try away," Jack said. " Do it first on a bit of paper, and then ask me." The boys drew off in a body, and a sum was fixed upon and worked out with a groat deal of discussion. 'ScT^. 78 A OALCXTLATINO CONJURER. At last, after a quarter of an hour's work, when all had gone through it and agreed that it was correct, they returned and said to him, "Multiply 324,683 by 459,852." Jack thought for a few seconds and then taking the pencil and paper wrote down the answer: 149,306,126,916. "Why, Jack, thou be'esfc a conjurer," one exclaimed, while the others broke out into a shout of astonish- ment. From that time it became an acknowledged fact that Jack Simpson was a wonder, and that there was some use in studying after all; and after their games were over they would sit round and ask him questions which they had laboriously prepared, and the speed and accuracy of his answers were a never-failing source of wonder to them. Aj3 to his other studies they never inquired; it was enough for them that ho could do this, and the fact that he could do it made them proud of him in a way, and when put upon by the pitmen it became a com- mon retort among them, " Don't thou talk, there's Jack Simpson, he knows as much as thee and thy mates put together. Why, he can do a soom as long as a slaate as quick as thou'd ask it." Jack himself laughed at his calculating powers, and told the boys that they could do the same if they would practise, believing what he said; but in point of fact this was not so, for the lad had an extraordinary natural faculty for calculation, and his schoolmaster CHANGE OF WORK. 79 was often astonished by the rapidity with which he could prepare in his brain long and complex r/:i.U:uia- tions, and that in a space of time little lieyond that which it would take to write the question upon paper. So abnormal altogether was his power in this respect that Mr. Merton begged him to discontinue the practice of difficult calculation when at work. " It is a bad thing, Jack, to give undue prominence to one description of mental labour, and I fear that you will injure your brain if you are always exercising it in one direction. Therefore when in the pit think over other subjects, history, geography, what you will, but leave calculations alone except when you have your books beiore you." CHAPTER IX. THE GREAT STRIKE. 1 1 T was Saturday afternoon, a time at which Stokebridge was generally lively. The men, (dinner over, and the great weekly wash done,) usually crowded the public-houses, or played bowls an i quoits on a piece of waste land known as "the common," or set off upon a spree t< Birmingham or Wolverhampton, or sat on low walls or other handy seats, and smoked and talked. But upon this special Saturday afternoon no one settled down to his ordinary pursuits, for the men stood talking in groups in the street, until, as the hour of four ap- proached, there was a general move towards the common. Hither, too, came numbers of men from the colliery villages round, until some forr or five thousand were gathered in front of an old "waste tip " at one corner of the common. Presently a group of some five or six men came up together, made their way through the throng, and took their stand on the edge of the Md, sorie twenty feet above the crowd. These were the *iic!egaies, the men sent by the union \ fHB OtHER 8tt)t Of TfiE QU£StION. dl to persuade the colliers of Stokebridge and its neigh- bourhood to join in a general strike i:or a rise of wages. The women of the village stand at their doors, and watch the men go off to the meeting, and then comment to each other concerning it. " I ain't no patience wi* *em, Mrs. Haden," said one of a group of neighbours who had gathered in front of her house; "I don't hold by strikes. I have gone through three of 'em, bad un's, besides a score of small Tin's, and I never knowed good come on 'em. I lost my little Peg in the last — low fever, the doctor called it, but it was starvation and nothing more." "If I had my way," said Mrs. Haden, "I'd just wring the heads off they delegates. They come here and 'suades our men to go out and clem rather than take a shilling a week less, just a glass o' beer a day, and they gets their pay and lives in comfort, and dunna care nowt if us and th' childer all dies off to- gether." " Talk o' woman's right's, as one hears about, and woman's having a vote; we ought to have a vote as to strikes. It's us as bears the worse o't, and we ought to have a say on't; if we did there wouldn't be another strike in the country." " It's a burning shame," another chimed in; "here us and the childer will have to starve for weeks, months may be, and all the homes will be broke up, and the furniture, which has took so long to get together, put (IM) f ikOlL RECKONS IT UP. away, jpiii because the men won't do with one glass of beer less a day." ** The union's the curse of us a*/' Mrs. Haden said. " I know what it'll be — fifteen bob a week for the first fortnight, and then twelve for a week, and then ten, and then eight, and then six, and then after we've clemmed on that for a month or two, the union '11 say as the funds is dry, and the men had best go to work on the reduction. I knows their ways, and they're a cuss to us women." "Here be'st thy Jack. He grows a proper lad that." ' " Ay," Jane Haden agreed, " he*s a good lad, none better; and as for learning, the books that boy knows is awesome; there's shelves upon shelves on *em up- stairs, and I do believe he's read 'em all a dozen times. Well, Jack, have ee cum from meeting?" "Ay, mother; I heard them talk nonsense till I was nigh sick, and then I comed away." "And will they go for the strike. Jack?" " Ay, they'll go, like sheep through a gate. There's half a dozen or so would go t'other way, but the rest won't listen to them. So for the sake of a shilling a week we're going to lose thirty shillings a week for perhaps twenty weeks; so if we win we sha'n't get the money we've throw'd away for twenty times thirty weeks, mother, and that makes eleven years and twenty-eight weeks." Jack Simpson was now sixteen years old, not very THE WAY TO INDfiPENDENCfi. 83 3S of said. first ten, Neve 11 say work y're a ir lad , none knows m up- times. I was there's le rest lUing a lek for tet the thirty bs and It very tall for his age, but square and set. His face was a pleasant one, in spite of his closely cropped hair. He had a bright fearless eye and a pleasant smile; but the square chin, and the firm determined lines of the mouth when in rest, showed that his old appellation of Bull- dog still suited him well. After working for four years as a gate-boy and two years with the waggons, he had just gone in to work with his adopted father in the stall, filling the coal in the waggon as it was got down, helping to drive the wedges, and at times to use the pick. As the getters — as the colliers work- ing at bringing down the coal are called — are paid by the ton, many of the men have a strong lad working with them as assistant. "Is t' dad like to be at home soon, Jack?" Mrs. Haden asked, as she followed him into the house. "Not he, mother. They pretty well all will be getting themselves in order for earning nothing by getting drunk to-night, and dad's not slack at that. Have you got tea ready, mother?" "Ay, lad." " I've made up my mind, mother," the boy said, as he ate his slice of bacon and bread, " that I shall go over to Birmingham to-morrow, and try to get work there. John RatclitT, the engineman, is going to write a letter for me to some mates of his there. The last two years, when I've been on the night-shift, I have gone in and helped him a bit pretty often in the day, so as to get to know something about an engine, and i I, '! ' I ■i I jl ■; I 84 TWO WAYS OP TALKING. to be able to do a job of smith s work; anybow, be thinks I can get a berth as a striker or something of that sort. I'd rather go at once, for there will be plenty of hands looking out for a job before long, when the pinch begins, and 1 don't want to be idle here at home." " They've promised to give some sort o' allowance tc non-unionists, Jack." " Yes, mother, but I'd rather earn it honestly. I'm too young to join tb^ union yet, but I have made up my mind long ago never to do it. I mean to be my own master, and I ain't going to be told by a pack of fellows at Stafford or Birmingham whether I am to work or not, and how much I am to do, and how many tubs I am to fill. No, mother, I wasn't born a slave that I know of, and certainly don't mean to become one voluntarily." "Lor, how thci do"' talk, Jack! Who'd take 'ee to be a pitman?" " I don't want to be taken for anything that I am not, mother. What with reading and with going two hours twice a week of an evening for six years, to talk and work with Mr. Merton, I hope I can express myself properly when I choose. As you ^now, when I'm away from you I talk as others do, for I hate any one to make remarks. If the time ever comes when I am to take a step up, it will be time enough for them to talk; at present, all that the other lads think of me is, that I am fond of reading, and that I can THIS schoolmaster's STORY. 85 w, he ng of ill be long, e idle nee tc . I'm ide up be my a, pack L am to f many a slave become le 'ee to It I am going years, [express when .te any IS when igh for s think t I can lick any fellow of my own age in the mine," and he laughed lightly. " And now, mother, I shall go in and tell Mr. Merton what I have made up my mind to do." Mr. Merton listened to Jack's report of his plans in silence, and then after a long pause said: "I have been for some time intending to talk seriously to you, Jack, about your future, and the present is a good time for broaching the subject. You see, my boy, you have worked very hard, and have thrown your whole strength into it for six years. You have given no time to the classics or modern languages, but have put your whole heart into mathematics; you have a natural talent for it, and you have had the advantage of a good teacher. I may say so," he said, " for I was third wrangler at Cambridge." " You, sir!" Jack exclaimed in astonishment. "Y^es, lad, you may well be surprised at seeing u third wrangler a village schoolmaster, but you might find, if you searched, many men who took as high a degree, in even more humble positions. I took a fellowship, and lived for many years quietly upon it; then I married, and forfeited my fellowship. I thought, like many other men, that because I had taken a good degree I could earn my living. There is no greater mistake. I had absolutely no knowledge that was jseful that way. I tried to write; I tried to get pupils: I failed all round. Thirteen years ago, after two years of marriage, my wife died; and in despair of otherwise earning my bread, and sick of the struggle :i nil i 86 A FINE PROSPECT. I had gone through, I applied for this little mastership, obtained it, and came down with Alice, then a baby of a year old. I chafed at first, but I am contented now, and no one knows that Mr. Merton is an ex-feMow of St. John's. I had still a little property remaining, just enough to have kept Alice always at a good school I do not think I shall stay here much longer. I shall try to get a larger school, in some town where I may find a few young men to teach of an evening. I am content for myself; but Alice is growing up, and I should wish, for her sake, to get a step up in the world again. I need not say, my lad, that I don't want this mentioned. Alice and you alone know my story. So you see," he went on more lightly, " I may say you have luid a good teacher. Xow, Jack, you are very high u\) in mathematics. Far higher than I was at your age; and I have not the slightest doubt that you will in a couple of years be able to take the best open scholarship of the year at Cambridge, if you try for it. That would keep you at college, and you might hope confidently to come out at least as high as I did, and to secure a fellowship, which means three or four hundred a year, till you marry. But to go through the university you must have a certain amount of Latin and Greek. You have a good two years, before you have to go up, and if you devote yourself as steadily to classics as you have to mathe- matics, you could get up enough to scrape through with. Don't give me any answer now, Jack. The i . ALICE MERTON. •7 idea is, of course, new to you. Think it very quietly over, and we can talk about it next time you come over from Birmingham." " Yes, sir, thank you very much," Jack said, quietly; "only, please tell ine, do you yourself recommend it?" The schoolmaster was silent for a while. ** I do not recommend one way or the other, Jack. I would rather leave it entirely to you. You would be certain to do well in one way there. You are, 1 believe, equally certain to do well here, but your advance may be very much slower. And now, Jack, let us lay it aside for to-night. I am just going to have tea, I hope you will take a cup with us." Jack coloured with pleasure. It was the first time that such an invitation had been given to him, and he felt it as the first recognition yet made^that he was something more than an ordinary pit- boy; but for all that he felt, when he followed his master into the next room, that he would have rather been anywhere else. It was a tiny room, but daintily furnished — a room such as Jack had never seen before; an ful grasp. " I thought ye'd be coming out here, and now I've got ye," growled a deep voice, which Jack recognized as that of Roger Hawking, the terror of Stoke- bridge. For an instant his heart seemed to stand still at the extent of his peril; then, with a sudden wrench, he swung round and faced his captor, twisted his hands in his handkerchief, and drove hii knuckles into his throat. Then came a crashing blow in his face — another, and another. With head bent down, Jack held on his grip with the gameness and tenacity of a bull-dog, whi!e the blows rained on his head, and his assailant, in his desperate effort to free himself, swung his body hither and thither in the air, as a bull might swing a dog which had pinned him. Jack felt his (in) a ■ 4 i « 114 A NARROW BSGAFE. senses going — a dull dazed feeling came over him. Then he felt a crash, as' his adversary reeled and fell — and then all was dark. It could have been but a few minutes that he lay thus, for he awoke with the sound of a thunder of horses' hoofs, and a clatter of swords in the yard on the other side of the engine-house. Bousing himself, he found that he still grasped the throat of the man beneath him. With a vague sense of wonder whether his foe was dead, he rose to his feet and staggered oif, the desire to avoid the troops dispersing all other ideas in his brain. For a few hundred yards he staggered along, swaying like a drunken man, and knowing nothing of where he was going; then he stumbled, and fell again, and lay for hours insensible. It was just the faint break of day when he came to, the cold air of the morning having brought him to himself. It took him a few minutes to recall what had happened and his whereabouts. Then he made his way to the canal, which was close by, washed the blood from his face, and set out to walk to Birming- ham. He was too shaken and bruised to make much progress, and after walking for a while crept into the shelter of a haystack, and went off to sleep for many hours. After it was dusk in the evening he started again, and made his way to his lodgings at ten o'clock that night. It was a fortnight before he could leave his room, so bruised and cut was his face, and a month before the last sign of the struggle was oblit- ROGER HAWKING IS DISPOSED OF. 115 erated, and he felt that he could return to Stokebridge without his appearance being noticed. There, great changes had taken place. The military had found the splintered door, the hose, and the still steaming water in the yard, and the particulars of the occurrence which ha4 taken place had been pretty accurately judged. They were indeed soon made public by the stories of the scalded men, a great num- ber of whom were forced to place themselves in the hands of the doctor, many of them having had very narrow escapes of their lives, but none of them had actually succumbed. In searching round the engine- house the soldiers had found a man, apparently dead, his tongue projecting from his mouth. A surgeon had accompanied them, and a vein having been Opened and water dashed in his face, he gave signs of recovery. He had been taken off to jail as being concerned in the attack on the engine-house; but no evidence could be obtained against him, and he would have been re- leased had he not been recognized as a man who had, five years before, effected a daring escape from Port- land, where he was undergoing a life sentence for a brutal manslaughter. The defeat of the attempt to destroy the Yaughan engines was the death-blow of the strike. Among the foremost in the attack, and therefore so terribly scalded that they were disabled for weeks, were most of the leaders of the strike in the pits of the district, and their voices silenced, and their counsel discredited, ! 116 jack's secret. the men two days after the attack had a great meet- ing, at which it was resolved almost unanimously to go to work on the masters' terms. Great excitement was caused throughout the district by the publication of the details of the defence of the engine-house, and the most strenuous efforts were made by Mr. Brook to discover the person to whom he was so indebted. The miners were unanimous in describing him as a stranger, and as speaking like a gentleman; and there was great wonder why any one who had done so great a service to the mine-owners should conceal his identity. Jack's secret was, how- ever, well kept by the three or four who alone knew it, and who knew too that his life would not be safe for a dfoy did the colliers, groaning and smarting over their terrible injuries, discover to whom they were in- debted for them. CHAPTER XIL AFTER THE STBIEE. t «l ELL, Jack, so you're back again," Nelly Hardy said as she met Jack Simpson on his way home from work on the first day after his return. " Ay, Nelly, and glad to see you. How have things gone on?" and he nodded towards her home. "Better than I ever knew them," the girl said. " When father could not afford to buy drink we had better times than I have ever known. It was a thousand times better to starve than as 'twas before. He's laid up still ; you nigh scalded him to death, Jack, and I doubt he'll never be fit for work again." " I," Jack exclaimed, astounded, for he believed that the secret was known only to his mother, Harry, John Ratcliffe, Mr. Merton and perhaps the schoolmaster's daughter. « Has Harry—" " No, Harry has not said a word. Oh, Jack, I didn't think it of you. You call me a friend and keep this a secret, you let Harry know it and say nowt to me. * i 118 A JEALOUS ALLY. I did not think it of you," and the dark eyes fdled with tears. " But if Harry did not tell you, how — " "As if I wanted telling," she said indignantly. "Who would have dared do it but you? Didn't I know you were here an hour or two before, and you think I needed telling who it was as faced all the pit- men? and to think you hid it from me! Didn't you think I could be trusted ? couldn't I have gone to fetch the redcoats for you? couldn't I have sat by you in the engine-house, and waited and held your hand when you stood against them all? oh, Jack!" and for the first time since their friendship had been pledged, nearly four years before, Jack saw Nelly burst into tears. " I didn't mean unkind, Nell, I didn't, indeed, and if I had wanted another messenger I would have come to you. Don't I know you are as true as steel ? Come, lass, don't take on. I would have sent thee instead o' Harry only I thought he could run fastest. Girls' wind ain't as good as lads'." "And you didn't doubt I'd do it, Jack?" "Not for a moment," Jack said. "I would have trusted thee as much as Harry." " Well then, I forgive you, Jack, but if ever you get in danger again, and doant let me know, Til never speak a word to you again." In the years which had passed since this friendship began Nelly Hardy had greatly changed. The com- ^^ nelly's doubts and fears. 119 panionship of two quiet lads like Jack and Harry had tamed her down, and her love of reading and her study of all the books on history and travel on Jack's book-shelves had softened her speech. When alone the three spoke with but little of the dialect of the place, Jack having insisted on improvement in this respect. With Nelly his task had been easy, for she was an apt pupil, but Harry still retained some of his roughness of speech. Nelly was fifteen now, and was nearly as tall as Jack, who was square and somewhat stout for his age. With these two friends Jack would talk some- times of his hopes of rising and making a way for himself. Harry, who believed devoutly in his friend, entered most warmly into his hopes, but Nelly on this subject alone was not sympathetic. "You don't say anything," Jack remarked one day; " do you think my castles in the air will never come true?" "I know they will come true, Jack," she said earnestly; "but don't ask me to be glad. I can't; I try to but I can't. It's selfish, but, but — " and her voice quivered. " Every step thou takest will carry you farther up from me, and I can't be glad on it, Jackr' " Nonsense, Nelly," Jack said angrily, " dos't think so little of me as to think that I shall not be as true to my two friends, Harry and you, as I am now?" The girl shook her head. ' .> 'l ifl I" Hi 130 A PUZZLB IN MENTAL FHIL080PHT. M " You will try, Jack, you will try. Bon't think 1 doubt you, but^— " and turning round she fled away at full speed. " I believe she ran away because she was going to cry," Harry said. "Lasses are strange things, and though in some things Nell's half a lad, yet she's soft you see on some points. Curious, isn't it, Jack?" " Very curious," Jack said; " I thought I understood Nell as well as I did you or myself, but I begin to think I doant understand her as much as I thought It comes of her being a lass, of course, but it's queer too," and Jack shook his head over the mysterious nature of lasses. "You can't understand 'em," he went on again, thoughtfully. " Now, if you wanted some clothes, Harry, and you were out of work, I should just buy you a set as a matter of course, and you'd take 'em the same. It would be only natural like friends, wouldn't it?" Harry assented. " Now, I've been wanting to give Nelly a gown, and a jacket, and hat for the last two years. I Want her to look nice, and hold her own with the other lasses of the place^he's as good looking as any — but I daren't do it. No, I daren't, downright. I know, as Well as if I see it, how she'd flash up, and how angry she'd be." " Why should sh6?" Harry asked. " That's what I doan't know, lad, but 1 know she would be. I suppose it comes of her being a lasd, but WHAT MAKES THE DIFFERENCE 1 121 it beats me altogether. Why shouldn't she take it? other lasses take presents from their lads, why shouldn't Nell take one from her fiiend? But she wouldn't, I'd bet my life she wouldn't, and she wouldn't say, * No, and thank you,* but she'd treat it as if I'd insulted her. No, it can't be done, lad; but it's a pity, for I should ha' liked to see her look nice for once." Not satisfied with his inability to solve the question Jack took his mother into his confidence. Jane Haden smiled. " Noa, Jack, I don't think as how thou canst give Nell Hardy a dress. She is a good quiet girl and keeps herself respectable, which, taking into account them she comes from, is a credit to her, but I don't think thou could'st gi' her a gown." "But why not, mother?" Jack persisted. "I might gi' her a pair o' earrings or a brooch, I suppose, which would cost as much as the gown." . " Yes, thou might'st do that, Jack." ** Then if she could take the thing which would be no manner o' use to her, why couldn't she take the thing that would?" " I doant know as I can rightly tell you. Jack, but there's a difference." " But can't you tell me what is the difference?" Jack insisted. " Noa, Jack, I can't, but there be a difference." Jack seized his candle with a cry of despair, and ran 122 A SERIOUS QUESTION. upstairs. He had solved many a tough problem, but this was beyond him altogether. He was not, however, accustomed to be baffled, and the next day he renewed the subject, this time to Nelly herself. " Look here, Nell," he said, " I want to ask you a questioa It is a supposition, you know, only a sup- position, but it bothers me." " What is it, Jack ? " she said, looking up from the ground, upon which as was her custom she was sitting with a book while Jack sat on a gate. " If I was to offer you a pair of gold earrings." "I wouldn't take *em," the girl said rising, "you know I wouldn't, Jack; you know I never take presents from you." " I know, lass, I know. We'll suppose you wouldn't take it, but you wouldn't be angered, would you ? " " I .should be angered that you had spent money foolishly," the girl said after a pause, " when you knew I shouldn't take it, but I couldn't be angered any other way." " Well, but if I were to buy you a hat and a jacket and a gown." " You dare not," the girl said passionately, her face flushed scarlet; "you dare not. Jack." " No," Jack said consciously, " I know I dare not, though I should like to; but why don't I dare?" " Because it would be an insult, a gross insult. Jack, and you dare not insult me." 'No lass, I darena; but why should it be an insul^? I "SOME SORT OF ANSWER.' 188 that's what I canna make out; why wouldn't it be an insult to offer you a gold brooch worth three or four pounds, and yet be an insult to otifer you the other things? what's the difference?" Nelly had calmed down now when she saw that the question was a hypothetical one, and that Jack had not, as she at first supposed, bought clothes for her. She thought for some time. " I suppose. Jack, the difference is this. It s the duty of a girl's father and mother to buy fit clothes for her, and if they don't it's either their fault, or it's because they are too poor. So to give clothes is an interference and a sort of re- proach. A brooch is not necessary; it's a pretty orna- ment, and so a lad may give it to his lass wi'out shame." " Yes, I suppose it must be that," Jack said thought- fully. " I'm glad I've got some sort of answer." < lral[CilSl[I!ln!lpll2lpI(dplpIl!!Jp^[^[dr!](d|lQll5ll!^l5lIUll!Ilhll!^l5ll^ >get with, I will go through them and answer you, and will also give you papers to work out." " You are very, very kind, sir," Jack said; "but it will not be the same thing as you being here." " No, not quite the same. Jack; still we can hardly help that." " Oh, no, sir!" Jack said eagerly, "and please do not fchink that I am not glad to hear that you have got a place more worthy of you. It was a blow to me just at first, and I was selfish to think of myself even for a moment." "Well, Jack, and now about this question of the soup dinner?" " Oh ! it does not matter, sir. I had forgot all about it." "It matters a little. Jack, becauso, although I did not promise to keep silence, I should certainly have respected your wish, had it not been that it seemed to be a far more important matter that the truth should be known." "More important, sir?" Jack repeated in a puzzled tone. "More important, Jack. My successor has been chosen. He is just the man for this place — earnest, well trained, a good disciplinarian. He will be no help to you. Jack. He is simply taught and trained as the master of a national school, but he is thoroughly ^1' I f I i 128 jack's excuses for fighting. in earnest. I have told him that his most efficient assistant here will be yourself." "I?" Jack exclaimed in extreme astonishment. "You, Jack, not as a teacher, but as an example. 7ou have immense power of doing good, Jack, if you do but choose to exert it." Jack was altogether too surprised to speak for some time. "A power of good," he said at last. "The only good I can do, sir, and that is not much, is to thrash chaps I see bullying smaller boys, but that's nothing." "Well, that's something. Jack; and indeed I fear you are fond of fighting." "I am not fond of it," Jack said. "I don't care aL'^ut it, one way or the other. It doesn't hurt me; I am as hard as nails, you see, so I don't think more about fighting than I do about eating my dinner." " I don't like fighting, Jack, when it can be avoided, and I don't think that you are quarrelsome though you do get into so many fights." "Indeed I am not quarrelsome, Mr. Merton; I never quarrel with anyone. If any of the big chaps interfere \i 'th us and want to fight, of course I am ready, or if chaps from the other pits think that they can knock our chaps about, of course I show them that the Vaughans C8,n fight, or if I see any fellow pitching in to a young one — " " Or, in fact. Jack; on any pretext whatever. Well, it 11 v/ere anyone else but yourself I should epeak I InrailifiiWiWWfV--"-'- ' ivi'V-yWiWi' THE RIGHT WAY tO FiGHt. I2d ifficient it. cample, if you or some iie only ) thrash )thing." [ I fear n't care e; lam e about ivoided, [though ton; I chaps I am it they them fellow Well, epeak very strongly against it; but in your case T avow that I am glad tha-t you have fought, and fought until, as 1 know, no one anywhere near your age will fight with you, because it now makes you more useful for my purpose." Jack looked astonished again. "You don't want me to thrash anyone, Mr. Mercon? ' he said; "because if you do— ^" " No, no, Jack, nothing is further from my thoughts. I want you to get the lads of your own age to join a night-school, and to become a more decent Christian set of young fellows than they are now. It is just because you can fight well, and are looked up to by the lads as their* natural leader, that you can do this. Were anyone else to try it he would fail. He would be regarded as a milksop, and be called a girl, and a Molly, and all sorts of names, and no one would join him. Now with you they can't say this, and boys joining would say to those who made fun of them, There's Jack Simpson, he's one of us; you go and call him Molly and see what you'll get.' Now you can talk to your comrades, and point out to them the advantages of learning and decent manners. Show that not only will they become happier men, but that in a worldly point of view they will benefit, for that the mine -owners have difficulty in getting men with sufficient education to act as overmen and viewers. Get them to agree to keep from drink and from the foul language which makes the streets I 130 A. NIGHT-SCHOOL. V horrible to a decent person. You can work a revolu- tion in the place. You won't get them to do all this at present, but the first step is to get them to attend a night-school. I have for the last year been thinking over the matter, and was intending to speak to you about it when the strike began, and everything else was put aside. Now, I have spoken to my suc- cessor, and he is willing, and indeed anxious, to open such a school if the young fellows can be induced to come." Jack sat for some time in silence. He was always slow at coming to a conclusion, and liked to think over every side of a question. "How often would it be held, sir?" he asked pre- sently. " Two or three nights a week. Jack. Those who are anxious to get on can do as you did, and work between times." " Two nights would be enough at first," Jack said; " but I think, yes, I think I could get some of them to give that. Harry Shepherd would, I'm sure, and Bill Cummings, and Fred Wood, and I think five or six others. Yes, sir, I think we could start it, and all I can do I will. It would do a sight — I mean a great deal of good. I'll come myself at first, sir, and then if any of them make a noise or play games with the schoolmaster I'll lick 'em next day." " No, Jack, I don't think that would do, but your presence would no doubt aid the master at first. And . I- -1 , iJl rolu- ) all m to been ipeak thing r SUC- is, to m be Jways kover id pre- rho are stween k said; [hem to A Bill or six id all I a great then if lith the it your And • V .'i A FRIEND INDEED. 131 youll think of the other things, Jack, the drinking, and the bad language, and so on." " I'll do what I can, Mr. Merton," Jack said, simply, " but it must be bit by bit." " That's right, Jack, I knew that I could rely upon you; and now come in to tea, and there was one thing I wanted to say, I want you once a month to come over to me at Birmingham on Saturday afternoon and stay till Sunday evening. It will be a great pleasure to me; I shall see how you are getting on, and shall hear all the news of Stokebridge." ** I am very very much obliged to you, sir," Jack said, colouring with pleasure, " but I am afraid I am not, not fit — " " You are fit to associate with anyone. Jack, and it is good for you that you should occasionally have other association than that of your comrades of the pit. You will associate with people of higher rank than mine, if you live, and it is well that you should become accustomed to it. And now, Jack, I know you will not take it amiss, but clothes do go for something, and I should advise you to go to a good tailor's at Birmingham the first time you come over — I will obtain the address of such a one — and order yourself a suit of well made clothes. As you get on in life you will learn that first imprecisions go a long way, and that the cut of the clothes have not a little to do with first impressions. I shall introduce you to my friends there, simply as a friend; not that either you or I are ^4 1 til ; I ti ■I I Wm ! ph 182 THE NEW SCHOOLMASTER. ashamed of your working in a pit — indeed, that is your highest credit — but it would spare you the comments and silly questions which would be put to you. Now let us go into the next room, Alice will be expecting us." Jack had taken tea with Mr. Merton more than once since that first evening before the strike, and was now much more at his ease with Miss Merton, who, having heard from her father that it was he who saved the Vaughan pit, viewed him with a constant feeling of astonishment. It seemed so strange to her that this quiet lad, who certainly stood in awe of her, although he was a year her senior, should have done such a daring action; equally wonderful to think that in spite of his well chosen words and the attain- ments her father thought so highly of, he was yet a pit boy, like the rough noisy lads of the village. A week later Mr. Merton and his daughter left Stokebridge, and upon the following day his successor arrived, and Jack, at Mr. Merton's request, called upon him the same evening. He was a tall man of some forty years old, with a face expressive of quiet power. Jack felt at .once that he should like him. He received the lad very kindly. " I have beard so much of you from Mr. Merton," he said, "and I am sure that you will be a great help to me. Harriet," he said to his wife, a bright-looking woman of about thirty-five years old, who came into the room, "this is Mr. Simpson, of whom Mr. Merton spoke so highly to me. My wife is going to have the girls' school, have you heard?" ,„-• »-»tea.:pJ*'-i-iit.At«a x i W8a* > »'i AN ARTFUL BEGINNING. 135 some questions as to the relative bigness of the earth and the sun. Saturday came, the lads gathered in a field which bel'^^ged to the Vaughan, and upon which a great tip of rubbish and shale was gradually encroaching. Here choosing sides they played at rounders for a couple of hours, and then flung themselves down on the grass. Some of them lighted pipes, and all enjoyed the quiet of the fine autumn evening. Presently Fred Wood artfully fired off the questions he had prepared, which Jack answered. "What a sight o' things thou know'st. Jack!" Bill Cummings said. " I don't know much yet. Bill, but I hopes to know a goodish deal some day." "And thou really lik'st reading. Jack? I hate it," John Jordan said. "I didn't like it ower much at first," Jack answered, " but as I got on I liked it more and more. I wish you chaps had the chances I had. It isn't every one who would take the pains wi' a fellow as Merton took wi'me." "What ud be t' good o't?" John Jordan asked. " I doan't see no good in knowing that t' sun be a hundred thousand ti aies as big as t* world." "There's use in a great deal o' what one gets to know, though," Jack said; "not so much now as some day, maybe. A chap as has some sort o' edication has chances over another o' being chosen as a viewer or an oversman. » ■ : 136 JACK GROWS ELOQUENT i (i **0h! that's what thou be'est looking forward to, Jack, eh Well there's summat in that, and I should- na' wonder if we see thee that some day; but we can't all be oversmen." " Not in the Vaughan," Jack said; " but there's plenty o' other pits, and a chap as has got his head screwed on straight, and can write well and figure a bit, and have read up his work, may always look forward to getting a step up wherever he goes. Besides, look at the difference it makes to the pleasures o' life. What has a man got to do who ain't learnt to be fond o' reading? Nowt but to go to t' public to spend his evenings and drink away his earnings. So 'ee goes on, and his woife doan't care about taking pains about a house when t' maister ain't never at home but to his meals, and his children get to look for him coming home drunk and smashing the things, and when he gets old he's just a broken-down drunkard, wi'out a penny saved, and nowt but the poorhouse before him. Now, that's the sort o' life o' a man who can't read, or can't read well enough to take pleasure in it, has before him. That is so, bean't it?" There was a long silence; all the lads knew that the picture was a true one. "Now look at t'other aide," Jack went on; "look at Merton. He didn't get moore pay a week than a pitman does; look how he lived, how comfortable everything was! What a home that ud be for a man to go back to after his work was done! Noice fumit MtAi uifc*»^aa .»•*.«•»! ▲ SOLEMN OONOLAVK 137 ture, a wife lool^ing forward neat and iu^y to your coming hoam for the evening. Your food all comfort- able, the kids clean and neat, and delighted to see feyther home." There was again a long silence. " Where be the girls to make the tidy wife a* cooming from, I wonder?" John Jordan said; "not in Stoke- bridge, I reckon!" " The lasses take mostly after the lads," Jack said. " If we became better they'd be ashamed to lag behind. Mrs. Dodgson, the new schoolmaister's wife, told me t'other day she thought o' opening a sort o' night class for big girls, to teach 'em sewing, and making their own clothes, and summat about cooking, and such like." "That would be summat like," said Harry Shepherd, who saw that his opportunity had come. " I wonder whether t' maister would open a night-school for us; I'd go for one, quick enough. I doan't know as I've vightly thought it over before, but now ye puts it in that way, Jack, there be no doubt i' my moind that I should; it would be a heap better to get some larning, and to live like a decent kind o' chap." "I doan't know," John Jordan said; "it moight be better, but look what a lot o* work one ud have to do." "Well, John, I always finds plenty o' time for play," Jack said. " You could give an hour a day to it, and now the winter's coming on you'd be main glad sometimes as you'd got summat to do. I should ha' ''I m THE FIRST BROTHERHOOD. ^i ij:; Ij I ' » ^l:: to talk to the schoolinaister a bit. I doan't know as he'd be willing to give up his time of an evening two or three evenings a week, say two, when he's been at work all day. It be a good deal to ask a man, that is." "It be, surely," Harry said; "but what a sight o' good it would do, and if his woife be willing to give oop her time to the girls, maybe he would do as much for us." There was a pause again. Several of the lads looked irresolute. "Well," Bill Cummings said, "I be ready fo^ an- other if some more of ee will join't." The example was contagious. Four others agreed to join. "Come," Harry Shepherd said, "it bean't no use if Jack can't tell schoolmaister that a dozen o' us will come in ef he will open a school two nights a week. You'll join, woan't you, Fred Wood?" "Oi allers hated my booKs," Fred said, "and used to be bottom o' class. It ain't as I doan't believe what Jack Simpson says; there be no doubt as it would be a sight better look-out if one got to be fond o* books, and such loike. I doan't believe as ever I shall be, but I doan't mind giving it a trial for six months, and if at the end o' that time I doan't like it, why I jacks it oop." The adhesion of this seemingly reluctant recruit settled the matter. Even John Jordan yielded upon the same terms, and the whole party, fifteen in num- ber, put down their names, and Jack Simpson under- took to speak to Mr Dodgsoa r^ n THE "BULL-DOGS" CLUB* 139 r^ ''See how we shall get laughed at," John Jordan said. " Why, we shall get made fun o' by the whole place." " Let 'em laugh," Jack said, "they won't laugh long. I never was laughed at, and why should you be? They canna call us Jennies, for we sixteen will play any sixteen wi'in five miles round, at any game they like, or tight *em if it comes to that. We has only got to stick together. I sha'n't be one of the night- school, but I am one wi' you, and we'll just stick together. Don't let us mind if they do laugh; if they go on at it, and I doubt thoy will, just offer to fight anyone your own size, and if he be bigger than you like I'll take him in hand." "That's it,' Harry Shepherd said enthusiastically; "we'll stick together, and you see how we'll get on; and look here, I vote we each pay threepence a week, that will get us a room at two bob, and candles. Then we can work a' night wi'out being disturbed." " This be a good idea o' thine, Harry. I'll give my threepence a week as well as the rest, and I'll come in on the nights when you don't go to school and help any that wants it" " Yes," Bill Cummings said, " and we'll send round challenges to the other pits to play football and rounders. I vote we call ourselves the 'Bull-dogs/ and Jack shall be our cantain." The proposition was carried with unanimity, and the "Bull-dogs" became a body from that time. 1 1 f 140 JACK IN THB CHAIQ. *; I f ;i^ u ill Harry waa appointed treasurer, and the first week's subscriptions were paid forthwith, and an hour later a room was hired. "Hullo!" Fred "Wood said, as they poured in and took possession; "we forgot furniture. We must have a table and some benches." " It is the captain's duty to provide furniture," Jack said. "I will get a big table and some benches on Monday, and then we'll draw up rules and get 'em framed and hung over the fireplace, then we shall be all in order." Nothing could have been more happy than this plan of starting a club; it gave all the members a lively interest in the matter, and united them by a bond which would keep the lazy and careless from '"anging back, and it was quite wit^ a sense of excite- ment that they met on the Monday evening. Jack had gob a large table and some benches. Ink- stands, slates, paper, and pencils were on the table, and four candles were burning. He took the place of honour at the head of the table, and the others, much pleased with the appearance of the room, took their seats round the table. "In the first place," Jack said, striking the table with his fist to call for order, "I have to report to you that I ha' seen the schoolmaister, and he says that he will willingly give two hours two nights a week to teaching the 'Bull-dogs.'" This mmounoement was received with great ap- TfiB RtTIiXS. 141 \E ^t ap- plause, for the lads had all become deeply interested in the matter. " He says Tuesdays and Fridays will suit him, from seven till nine; and 1 have, in your name, accepted with very mBny thanks his offer; for, lads, it be no light thing t] at a man who has been all day teaching, should give up two evenings a week to help us on, and that wi'out charge or payment." "That's so, Jack !" Fred Wood said. " I voate we pass a vote o' thanks to Mi. Dodgson." - There was a chorus of approval. "Someone ha* got to second that proposal," Jack said; "we must do things in the proper form." " I second it," John Jordan said. "Very well," Jack said, " are you all agreed ?" " Ail." " Very well, then, I'll write that out neatly in this book I ha* bought to keep the records o* the club, and I'll send a copy to Mr, Dodgson; I'm sure he will be pleased. I had best act as secretary as well as captain at present, till one o' you gets on wi* his writing and can take it off my hands. Now we must draw out our rules. First, we must put down that the following are the original members of the Bull-dog Club. Then, that the objects of the club are to improve ourselves, and to make decent men o* ourselves. Next, to stick together in a body and to play all sorts o' games against any other set. All that's been agreed, ain't it?" There were cries of " Ay, ay," and Jack wrote down the items on the sheet o* paper before him. i 142 WORK AND PLAY. ' Now about new members. Do we mean to keep it to ourselves, or to let in other chaps?" " Keep it to ourselves," shouted several. "Well, I dunno," Harry Shepherd said; "if this is going to do us as much good as we hopes, and think it is, would it be right to keep the chaps o' the place out? 0' course we wouldn't go beyond Stokebridge, but we might keep it to that." The point was hotly debated, the majority being in favour of confining the club to its present members; some saying that if it were opened the original mem- bers would be swamped by numbers, and that their bond of union would be broken. v " When all had spoken Jack Simpson said. "I think we might go between both opinions. If we were to limit the club to twenty-four members, this room would just about hold 'am. We would only elect one each week, so as to have time to make a good choice. Any member who broke the rules or made himself unpleasant would be expelled, and so we should see in a while all the young chaps o' t' village wanting to join, and it would get to be looked upon as a feather in a chap's cap to belong to it.'' This proposal was agreed to unanimously. " Now the next rule I propose," Jack said, " is that this room is to be used from seven to nine for work. No talking to be allowed. Arter nine, books to be put away and pipes to be lit by them as smoke, and to talk till ten. I ha' been talking to tht woman o' the house. «.^ v:^-^, A CURE FOR SWEARING. 143 and she will supply cups o' coffee or tea at a penny a piece between nine and ten." This rule was agreed to without a dissentient voice. " Now," Jack said, " I doan't know as you'll all like the next rule T ha* to propose, but I do think it is a needful one. That is that no swearing or bad language be used in this room. A fine of a penny being inflicted for each time the rule be broken." There was a dead silence. " You see," Jack said, " you will all be fined a few times at first, but this money will go to the club fund, and will help up to get fires i' winter. You'll soon break yourselves of it, it be only a trick. I did. Mr. Merton told me that it was a bad habit and horrible to decent people. I said I could never break myself o't. He said if I fined myself a penny every time I did it, and put it in the poor box o' Sunday, I should soon get out o' t'way. Well, the first day cost me thirteen pence, the next fourpence, and afterwards it was only a penny now and then. First and last it didn't cost me half a crown, and you never hear me swear or use bad language now. Come, Bull-dogs, this will be the first step toward improving yourselves, and when you find how easy it be to do wi'out it here, you will soon do wi'out it outside." The rule was finally agreed to, but during the first week it carried a good deal of heart-burning in the club. Or J of the members left altogether, but the rest Mil ill 144 LEARNING MAOB SAST. Boon found that the fines, which had been so alarming for the first day or two, dwindled down. It cost the Bull-dogs collectively over three pounds to cure themselves of using bad language, and the fines kept them in firing, paper, pens, and ink all the winter. On the evening after the opening of the club-room the whole party accompanied by Jack went to the night-school. They looked rather shamefaced as they tramped in, but Jack introduced them one by one to the master, who with a few cordial words put them &t their ease. For the first night he contented himself by finding out how much each knew, how much he re- membered of what he had formerly heard. For the last half hour he gave them a short lecture on geo- graphy, drawing a map on the black-board, taking a traveller from place to place, and telling them what he saw there. Then he set them each a task to be learned and a few sums to be done by the following Friday, and they returned to the club-room greatly pleased with the first night's lessons. It was not always so light, but the lads were in earnest and really worked hard. Jack visited the room on the off" nights, explained questions they did not understand, and after nine o'clock generally read aloud for half an hour while they smoked ; that is to say, he read short sentences and then one or other read them after him. Jack correcting mistakes in dialect and pro- nunciation. Mr. Merton had indeed been a friend to Jack Simp- Ti fitroofisi^ U5 son, but there was another friend to whom, according to his promise. Jack reported his doings, not telling everything, perhaps, for Jack was not very apt to talk or write about himself; but once a year he sent a letter in reply to a long and wise one which he received from his friend the artist, according to their agree- ment, for Jack had not " given up." Before the end of a month Mr. Dodgson wrote to Mr Merton, saying that, thanks to Jack, the night-school was a great success, that the lads all behaved ex- tremely well, and were making really surprising etforts to improve themselves. He augured great things for the village from the movement. (iin CHAPTER XV. THE SEWING CLASS. P? -'SI 11! : i |. TOKEBRIDGE contained altogether a popu- lation of some three thousand souls, of whom more than half consisted of the men and boys of the Vaughan mine, and the families dependent upon them. It was a place where, except as to accidents at one or other of the pits, news was scarce, and a small thing therefore created much interest. Thus the news that the new schoolmaster had opened a night school, and that some sixteen or eighteen of the lads belonging to the Vauglian had joined it, created quite an excitement. At first the statement was received with positive disbelief There was no precedent for such a thing, and in its ways at least Stokebridge was strictly conservative. When the tale was confirmed wonder took the place of unbelief The women were unanimous in the opinion that if the school only kept the lads from drink it would be a blessing to tlie place. Drink was indeed the grand test by wlvoh they viewed all things. To anything which led lads to avoid this curse of their A GAME THAT TWO COULD PLAY At. U7 place »inioii Qk it ideed To their homes their approval was certain and complete. Whether the acquisition of learning was likely to improve their prospects in life, or to make them better men, was not considered, the great point about the new organization was that it would keep th^m from the public-houses, the curses of tlie working men, and still more 0/ the working men a wives and families, of this country. Among the men, who were, however, disposed to view the matter as a boys' fancy which would soon die away, the movement met with slight approval New- fangled notions were held in but low estimation among the miners of Stokelaidge. They had got on wi'out laming, and saw no reason why t* lads could not do as they had done. " They'll be a cocking they noses oop aboove their fey thers, joost acause they know moore reading and writing, but what good ul it do they I wonder?" an elderly pitman asked a circle of workmen at the "Chequers;" and a general affirmatory grunt betokened assent with the spirit of his words. Among the young men, those of from eighteen to three or four and twenty, the opposition was sti^ stronger, for here a strong feeling of jealousy was aroused at the thought that their juniors were, as they considered, stealing a march upon them. Gibes and jeers werp showered upon the " Bull-dogs," and two of them were ducked in the canal by a party of five or six of their elders. On scram Uing out, however, they ran back to the village, and the rest of the party, us THE STOKBBRIDGS OIRL& il ^1 J M ., ,( 4 M headed by Jack, at once started on the war-path. Coming up to the band who had assaulted tlieir com- rades they fell upon them with fury, and in spite of the latter's superior individual strength, thrashed them soundly, and then gave them a ducking in the canal, similar to that which they had inflicted. After that it came to be understood in Stokebridge that it was best to leave the bull-dogs alone, or at least to be content with verbal assaults, at which indeed the lads were able to hold their own. But it was among the girls of Stokebridge, those of from fourteen to sevent'^en years old, that this move- ment upon the pert of the boys excited the greatest discussion and the widest divergence of opinion. Up to the time of tne strike Jack Simpson had been by no ijiieans popular among their class. It was an anomaly in Stokebridge that a lad sliould have no avowed favourite of his own age among the lasses. These adhesions were not often of a permanent character, although later on sometimes marriages came of them, but for a time, and until the almost inevitable quarrel came, they were regarded as binding. The lad would sometimes buy a, ribbon or neckerchief for the lass, and she and two or three others would accompany him as with some of hia comrades ae strolled in the liines on Sunday, or would sit by him on a wall or a balk of timber as ho smoked and talked with his friends. Jack's rigid seclusion after his hour cf pxay was over, his apparent indifference to the lasses oi the place, was r! ^]i^[^^^ SURPRISINQ NEWS. U9 / felt BpS a general slight, and resented accordingly; although the girls were not insensible to his prowess in mttle and in sports, to his quiet steadiness of char- acter, or to the frankness and good temper of his face. The general opinion, therefore, among the young girls of Stokebridge was that he was " stuck up," although in fact few boys in the place had less of conceit and self-glorification than he had. " Did *ee ever hear of such a tale," asked one of a group of girls sitting together on a bank, while the little ones, of whom they were supposed to be in charge, played and rolled on the grass, " as for a lot o' boys to go co school again o' their own free-will." " I don't see no good in it," another said, " not for the schooling they'll get. But if it teaclies them to keep out o' the publics, it will be good for their wives some day." "It will that," put in another earnestly; "my! how feyther did beat mother last night; he were as drunk as could be, and he went on awful." "I think sometimes men are .. i •■ > 1 if CHAPTER XVI. A NEW LIFEL ACK SIMPSON did not forget the advice Mr. Merton had given him about clothes, and a fortnight after his master had gone to Birmingham Jack went over on Saturday afternoon, and his kind friend accompanied him to one of the leading tailors there, and he was measured for two suits of clothes. He went to other shops and bought such articles as Mr. Merton recommended — hats, gloves, boots, &;c. Mr. Merton smiled to himself at the grave attention which Jack paid to all he said upon the sub- ject ; but Jack was always earnest in all he undertook, and he had quite appreciated what his friend had told him as to the advantage of being dressed so as to excite no attention upon the part of those whom he would meet at Mr. Merton's. The followjiig Saturday he went over again, and went again to the tailor's to try his things on. " Do you want a dress suit, sir?" the foreman asked with suppressed merriAient i JACK Simpson's dress suit. 167 advice ilothes, 1 gone turday to one for two 30Ught gloves, grave ne sub- ertook, ad told D excite would in, and asked "What is a dress suit?" Jack said simply. "I am Ignorant about these matters." " A dress suit/' the foreman said, struck with the young fellow's freedom from all sort of pretence or as- sumption, " is the dress gentlemen wear of an evening at dinner parties or other gatherings This is it," and he showed Jack an engraving. Jack looked at it — he bad never seen anyone so attired. " He looks very affected," he said. " Oh, that is the fault of the artist," the foreman an- swered. "Gentlemen look just as natural in these clothes as in any other. They are quite simple, you see — all black, with open vest, white shirt, white tie and gloves, and patent leather boots." A quiet smile stole over Jack's face. Humour was by no means a strong point in his character, but he was not altogether deficient in it. " I had better have them," he said ; " it would look strange, I suppose, not to be dressed so when others are?" "It would be a little marked in the event of a dinner or evening party," the foreman answered, and so Jack gave the order. It was two weeks later before he paid his first visit to Mr. Merton; for the pretty little house which the latter had taken a mile out of the town had been in the hands of the workmen and furnishers, Mr. Merton having drawn on his little capital to decorate I i; 158 ON A VISIT TO MR. MERTON. ,1'i ! ■'!! and fit up the house, so-as to be a pretty home for his daughter. It was, indeed, a larger house than, from the mere salary attached to his post, he could l)e able to afford, but he reckoned upon considerably increasing this by preparing young men for the university, and he was wise enough to know that a good establishment and a liberal table go very far in establishing and widening a connection, and in rendering people sensible to a man's merits, either in business or otherwise. As Mr. Merton, M.A., late of St. John's, Cambridge, and third wrangler of his year, he had already been received with great cordiality by his colleagues, and at their houses had made the acquaintance of many of the best, if not the wealthiest men in Birmingham, for at Birmingham the terms were by no means more synony- mous than they are elsewhere. Jack had ordered his clothes to be sent to a small hotel near the railway station, and had arranged with the landlord that his portmanteau should be kept there, and a room be placed at his service on Saturday afternoon and Monday morning once a month for him to change his things. He had walked with Mr. Merton and seen the house, and had determined that he would always change before going there on a Saturday, in order to avoid comments by servants and others who might be visiting them. In thus acting Jack had no personal thoughts in the matter ; much as he always shrank from beiiig pot for- for his B mere afford, his by lie was I and a idening e to a ibridge, y been and at ^ of the , for at ynony- small d with there, emoon change id seen always •der to ght be in the ut for- A OfiANOK OF CLOTHEa 159 ward as being in any way different from others, he had otherwise no self-consciousness whatever. No lad on the pits thought less of his personal appearance or attire, and his friend Nelly had many times taken him to task for his indifference in this respect. Mr. Merton perceived advantages in Jack's position in life not being generally known, and Jack at once fell into the arrangement, and carried it out, as described, to the best of his ability. But even he could not help seeing, when he had attired himself for his first visit to Mr. Merton's house, how complete had been the change in his appearance. " Who would have thought that just a little differ- ence in the make of a coat would have made such an alteration in one's look ? " he said to himself. " I feel different altogether ; but that is nonsense, except that these boots are so much lighter than mine, that it seems as if I were in my stockings. Well, I suppose I shall soon be accustomed to it." Packing a black coat and a few other articles in a hand-bag, and locking up the clothes he had taken off in his portmanteau, Jack started for Mr. Merton's. He was dressed in a well-fitting suit of dark tweed, with a claret-coloured neckerchief with plain gold scarf-ring. Jack's life of exercise had given him the free use of his limbs — he walked erect, and his head was well set back on his shoulders ; altogci/liOr, with his crisp short waving hair, his good-humoured but resolute face, and his steadfast look, he was, although not handsome, yet a very pleasant-looking young fellow. ■ :l I. I 160 THE tAILOR doesn't MAICE tHS MAN. He soon forgot the fact of his new clothes, except that he was conscious of walking with a lightness and elasticity strange to him, and in half an hour rang at the visitors' bell of Mr. Merton's ilia. "A visitor, papa," said Alice, who was sitting near the window of the drawing-room. "How tiresome, just as we were expecting Jitck :biiii|iM)n. It is a gentleman. Why, papa 1 " and she elai)ped her hands, " it is Jack himself I did noo know him at first, he looks like a gentleman." "He is a gentleman," Mr. Merton said ; "a true gentle- man in thought, feeling, and speech, and will soon adapt himself to the society he will meet liere. Do not re- mark upon his dress unless he says something about it himself" " Oh, papa, T should not think of such a thing. I am not so thoughtless as that." The door was opened and Jack was shown in. " How are you, Jack ? I am glad to see you." "Thank you, sir, I am always well," Jack said. Then turning to Miss Merton he asked her how she liked Birmingham. He liad seen her often since the time when he first met her at the commencement of the strike, as he had helped them in their preparations foi removing from Stokebridge, and had entirely got over the embarrassment which he had felt on the first even- ing spent there. After talking for a few minutes. Jack said gravely to Mr. Merton, " I hope that these clothes will do, Mr Morton?" ALtOlE MfiRTOK. 161 " Excellently well, Jack," he answered smiling ; "they have made just the difference I expected; my daughter hardly knew you when you rang at the bell." "1 hardly knew myself when I saw myself in a glass," Jack said. "Now, on what principle do you explain the fact that a slight alteration in the cutting and sewing together of pieces of cloth should make such a difference?" " I do not know that I ever gave the philosophy of the question a moment's thought, Jack," said Mr. Mer- ton smiling. "I can only explain it by the remark that the better cut clothes set off tiie natural curve of the neck, shoulders, and figure generally, and in the second place, being associated in our minds with the peculiar garb worn by gentlemen, they give what, for want of a better word, T may call style. A high black hat is the ugliest, most shapeless, and most unnatural article ever invented, but still a high hat, good and of the shape in vogue, certainly has a more gentlemanly effect, to use a word I hate, than any otlier. And now, my boy, you I know dined early, so did we. We shall have tea at seven, so we have three hours for work, and there are nearly six weeks' arrears, so do not let us waste any more time." After this first visit Jack went out regularly once every four weeks. He fell very naturally into the ways of the house, and although his manner often amused Alice Merton greatly, and caused even her father to smile, he was never awkward or boorish. (W) & m '1 , t 1 'i ii "P I i I 16^ "MY YOUNG ^lEND SIMPSON." As Alice came to know him more thoroughly, and/ their conversations ceased to be of a formal cliaracter, she surprised and sometimes quite puzzled him. i ne girl was full of fun and had a keen sen^e ot humour, and her playful attacks upon his earnestness, her light way of parrying the problems which Jack, ever ov. the alerfc f( » infr* I'lti n, was constantly putting, and the cheer- ful t ?i!. i v^'hich her talk imparted to the general conver- sutioi >/iie" jhe was present, were all wholly new to the lad. Otteu he did not know whether she was in earnest or not, and was sometimes so overwhelmed by her light attacks as to be unable to answer. Mr. Merton looked on, amused at their wordy con- flicts ; he knew that nothing does a boy so much good and so softens his manner as friendly intercourse with a well-read girl of about his own age, and undoubtedly Alice did almost as much towards preparing Jacks manner for his future career as )ier father had done towards preparing his mind. As time went on Jack often met Mr. Merton's col- leagues, and other gentlemen who came in in the even- ing. He was always introduced as " my young fiiend Simpson," with the aside, " a remarkably clever young fellow/' and most of those who met him supposed him to be a pupil of the professor's. Mr. Merton had, within a few months of his arrival at Birmingham, five or six young men to prepare for Cambridge. None of them resided in the house, but after Jack had become thoroughly accustomed to the QUITB THE WRONG THING TO SAT. 1^8 position, Mr. Merton invited them, as well as a party of ladies and gentlemen, to the house on one of Jack's Saturday evenings. Jack, upon hearing that a number of friends were coming ia the evening, made an excuse to go into the town, and took his black bag with him. Alice had already wondered over the matter. "They will all be in dress, papa. Jack will feel awkward among them." "He is only eighteen, my dc :., ^nd it will not matter his not being in evening ^ret Jack will not feel awkward." Alice, was, however, very plesseo iS well as surprised when, upon coming down dr .3d into the drawing- room, she found him in full evening dress chatting quietly with her father and two newly arrived guests. Jack would not have been awkward, but he would certainly have been uncomfortable had he not been dressed as were the others, for oi all things he hated being different to other people. He looked at Alice in a pretty pink muslin dress of fashionable make with a surprise as great as that with which she had glanced at him, for he had never before seen a lady in full evening dress. Presently he said to her quietly, **I know I never say the right thing. Miss Merton, and I daresay it is quite wrong for me to express any personal opinions, but you do look — " "No, Jack*, that is quite the wrong thing to say. 164 A DOUBLE LIFE. You may say, Miss Merton, your dress is a most be- coming one, although even that you could not be allowed to say except to some one with whom you are very intimate. There are as many various shades of compliment as there are of intimacy. A brother may say to a sister, You look stunning to-night — that is a very slang word, Jack — and she will like it. A stranger or a new acquaintance may not say a word which would show that he observes a lady is not at- tired in a black walking dress." " And what is the exact degree of intimacy in which one may say as you denoted, ' Miss Merton, your dress is a most becoming one?' " " I should say," the girl said gravely, " it might be used by a cousin or by an old gentleman, a friend of the family." Then with a laugh she went off to receive the guests, now beginning to arrive in earnest. After this Mr. Merton made a point of having an " at home " every fourth Saturday, and these soon became known as among the most pleasant and sociable gather- ings in the literary and scientific world of Birmingham. So young Jack Simpson led a dual life, spending twenty-six days of each month as a pit lad, speaking a dialect nearly as broad as that of his fellows, and two as a quiet and unobtrusive young student in the pleasant home of Mr. Merton. Before a year had passed the one life seemed as natural to him as the other. Even with his friends he A DULL 8T0RT. 165 kept them separate, seldom speaking of Stokebridge when at Birmingham, save to answer Mr. Merton's questions as to old pupils ; and giving accounts, which to Nelly Hardy appeared ridiculously meagre, of his Birmingham experience to his friends at home. This was not from any desire to be reticent, but simply because the details appeared to him to be alto- gether uninteresting to his friends. " You need not trouble to tell me any more, Jack," Nelly Hardy said indignantly. " I know it all by heart. You worked three hours with Mr. Merton ; dinner at six; some people came at eight, no one in particular ; they talked, and there was some playing on the piano ; they went away at twelve. Next morning after breakfast you went to church, had dinner at two, took a walk afterwards, had tea at half-past six, supper at nine, then to bed. I won't ask you any more questions, Jack ; if an3rthmg out of the way takes place you will tell me, no doubt." •^i^p- W CHAPTER XVIL THE DOG FIGHT. ATUKDAY afternoon walks, when there were no special games on hand, became an institu- tion among what may be called Jack Simp- son's set at Stokebridge. The young fellows had followed his lead with all seriousness, and a stranger passing would have been astonished at the talk, so grave and serious was it. In colliery villages, as at school, the lad who is alike the head of the school and the champion at all games, is looked up to and admired and imitated, and his power for good or for evil is almost unlimited among his fellows. Thus the Saturday afternoon walks became supplements to the evening classes, and questioas of all kinds were pro- pounded to Jack, whose attainments they regarded as prodigious. On such an afternoon, as Jack was giving his friends a brief sketch of the sun and its satellites, and of the wonders of the telescope, they heard bursts of applause by many voices, and a low, deep growling of doga " It is a dog fight," one of the lads exclaimed. JACK INTERFERES AT HIS PERIL. 167 " It is a brutal sport," Jack said. " Let us go an other way." One of the young fellows had, however, climbed a gate to see what was going on beyond the hedge. "Jack," he exclaimed, "tliere is Bill Haden fighting his old bitch Flora against Tom Walker's Jess, and 1 think the pup is a-killing the old dorg." With a bound Jack Simpson sprang into the field, where some twenty or thirty men were standing look- ing at a dog fight. One dog had got the other down and was evidently killing it. "Throw up the sponge, Bill," the miners shouted. "The old dorg's no good agin the purp." Jack dashed into the ring, with a kick he sent the young dog flying across the ring, and picked up Flora, who, game to the last, struggled to get at her foe. A burst of indignation and anger broke from the men. " Let un be." " Put her down." " Dang thee, how dare'st meddle here?" " 1*11 knock thee head off"," and other shouts sounded loudly and tlireateningly. "For shame!" Jack said indignantly. "Be y men! For shame. Bill Haden, to match thy old dogf, twelve year old, wi' a 3'oung un. She's been a good dorg, and hast brought thee many a ten- pun note. If be'est tired oi her, gi' her poison, but I woant stand by and see her mangled." ' How dare 'ee kick my dorg?" a miner said coming angrily forward; "how dare *ee come here and hinder sport?" i :* n ■)- .! 168 TOM WALKER ACCEPTS JACKS CHALLENQE. " Sport ! " Jack 3aid indignantly, " there be no sport in it. It is brutal cruelty." '* The match be got to be fought out, ' another said, " unless Bill Haden throws up the sponge for his dog." " Come," Tom Walker said putting his hand on Jack's shoulder, "get out o' this; if it warn't for Bill Haden I'd knock thee head off. We be coora to see spoort, and we mean to see it." " Spoort ! " Jack said passionately. " If It's spoort thee want'st I'll give it thee. Flora sha'n't go into the ring agin, but oi uU. I'll fight the best man among ye, be he which he will." A chorus of wonder broke from the colliers. "Then thou'st get to fight me," Tom Walker said. *' I b'liev'," he went on looking round, " there bean't no man here uU question that. Thou'st wanted a leathering for soom time, Jack Simpson, wi' thy laming and thy ways, and I'm not sorry to be the man to gi' it thee." " No, no," Bill Haden said, and the men round for the most part echoed his words. " 'Taint fair for thee to take t' lad at his word. He be roight. I hadn't ought to ha* matched Flora no more. She ha' been a good bitch in her time but she be past it, and I'll own up that thy pup ha' beaten her, and pay thee the two pounds I lay on her, if ee'U let this matter be." " Noa," Tom Walker said, " the young 'un ha' chal- lenged the best man here, and I be a-goaing to lick him if he doant draw back." ^afa..: OB. 3 no sport )ther said, his dog." on Jack's ill Haden 3oort, and )oorfc thee > the ring ag ye, be ker said, 'e bean't 'anted a ' larning m to gi' und for for thee hadn't been a 11 own he two i' chal- khim A BOXING HATCH. 169 " I sLall not draw back," Jack said divesting bimscil of his coat, waistcoat, and shirt. Flora got licked a'cause she was too old, maybe I'll be licked a'cause I be too young ; but she made a good foight, and soli oi. No, dad, I won't ha* you to back me. Harry here shall do that." The ri :g was formed again. The lads stood on one side, the men on the other. It was understood now that there was to be a fight, and no one had another word to say. " I'll lay a fi'-pound note to a shilling on the old un,*' a miner said. " I'll take *ee," Bill Haden answered. " It hain't a great risk to run, and Jack is as game as Flora." Several other bets were made at similar odds, the lads, although they deemed the conflict hopeless, yet supporting their champion. Tom Walker stood but little taller than Jack, who was about five feet six, and would probably grow two inches more ; but he was three stone heavier. Jack being a pound or two only over ten while the pitman reached thirteen. The latter was the acknowledged champion of the Vaughan pits, as Jack was incontestably the leader among the lads. The disproportion in weight and muscle was enormous ; but Jack had not a spare ounce of flesh on his bones, while the pitman was fleshy and out of condition. It is rot necessary to give the details of the fight, which lasted over an hour. In the earlier portion Jack ft ' m 'W\ \i \ 170 TOM WALKER GIVES m. waa knocked down again and again, and was several times barely able to come up to the call of time; but his bull-dog strain, as he called it, gradually told, while intemperate habits and want of condition did so as su.:ely upon his opponent. The derisive shouts with which the men had hailed every knock-down blow early in the fight soon sub- sided, and exclamations of admiration at the pluck with which Jack, reeling and confused, came up time after time took their place. " It be a foight arter all," one of them said at the end of the first ten minutes. "I wouldn't lay more nor ten to one now." "I'll take as many tens to one as any o' ye like to lay," Bill Haden said, but no one cared to lay even these odds. At the end of half an hour the betting was only two to one. Jack, who had always "given his head," that is, had always ducked so as to receive the blows on the toT) of his head, where they were supposed to do less harm, was as strong as he was after the first five minutes. Tom Walker was panting with fatigue, wild and furious at his want of success over an adversary he had despised. The choers of the lads, silent at first, rose louder with each round, and culminated in a yell of triumph when, at the end of fifty-five minutes, Tom Walker, having for the third time in succession been knocked down, was absolutely unable to rise at the call of '*time" to renew the fight. ^as several time; but told, while did so as ad hailed 3oon sub- he pluck J up time d at the lay more eK \ IV li ill % vt »» H^ ^i*>^p^ i »//.! 161 JACK IS VICTORIOUS. M jii 'i!5i n ,, il3 <%' .«.,.* A DEARLY BOUGHT VICTORY. 171 ^ \ Never had an event created such a sensation in Stokebridge. At fiist the news was received with Absolute incredulity, but when it became thoroogfal}' understood that Bill Haden s hoy, Jack Simpson, had licked Tom Walker, the wonder knew no bounds. So struck were some of the men with Jack's courage and endurance, that the offer was made to him that, if he liked to go to Birmingham and put himself '^nder that noted pugilist the " Chicken," his expenses would be paid, and £50 be forthcoming for his first match. Jack, snowing that t* is offer was made in good faith and with good intentions, and was in accordance with the custom of mining villages, declined it courteously and thankfully, but firmly, to the surprise and disappoint- \ ment of his would-be backers, who had flattered them- j selves that Stokebridge was going to produce a champion middle-weight He had not come unscathed from the figlit, for it proved that one of his ribs had been broken by a heavy body hit; and he was fcr some weeks in the hands of the doctor, and was longer still before e could again take his place in the pit. Bill Haden's pride in him was unbounded, and dur- ing his illness poor old Flora, who set ted to recognize n him her champion, lay on his 1 ed with her black uzzle in the hand not occupied wich a book. The victory which Jack had won gave the finishing roke to his popularity and influence among his com nions, and silenced definitely and for ever the sneers ll i m ' I Ill I 172 JANE HADEN'S reproaches. of the minority who had held out against the change which he had brought about. He himself felt no elation at his victory, and objected to the subject even being alluded to. " It was just a question of wind and last," he said. " I was nigh being done for at the end o' the first three rounds. I just managed to hold on, and then it was a certainty. If Tom Walker had been in condition he would have finished me in ten minutes. If he had come on working as a getter, I should ha* been no- where; he's a weigher now and mak^s fat, and his muscles are flabby. The best dorg can't fight when he's out o' condition." But in spite of that, the lads knew that it was only bull-dog courage that had enabled Jack to hold out over these bad ten minutes. As for Jane Haden, her reproaches to her husband for in the first place matching Flora against a young dog, and in the second for allowing Jack to fight so noted a man as Tom Walker, were so fierce and vehe- ment, that until Jack was able to leave his bed and take his place by the fire, Bill was but little at home ; spending all his time, even at meals, in that place of refuge from his wife's tongue, — " the Chequers." I CHAPTER XVIIL 8 only ) STOKEBBIDOE FEAST. VEN among the mining villages of tho Black Country Stokebridge had a reputation for roughness ; and hardened topers of the place would boast that in no village in the county was there so much beer drunk per head. Stokebridge feast was frequented by tht dv ,.llers of the mining villages for miles round, and the place was for the day a scene of disgraceful drunkenness and riot. Crowds of young men and women came in, the public-houses were crowded, there was a shouting of songs and a scraping of fiddles from each tap-room, and dancing went on in temporary booths. One of these feasts had taken place just after the estab- lishment of the night classes, and had been marked by even greater drunkeimess and more riotous scenes than usual For years the vicar in the church and the dis- senting ministers in their meeting-houses had preached in vain ajjainst the evil. Their conjjrejjations were small, o no ' and in this respect their words fell upon ears closed to exhortation. During the year which had elapsed, how- I I i 174 SXTTINO ▲ GOOD BXAMPLIL ever, there was a perceptible change in Stokebridge, a change from which those interested in it hoped for great results. The Bull-dogs and their kindred societies had set the fashion, and the demeanour and bearing of the young men and boys was quiet and orderly. In every match which they had played at rounders, football, and quoits, with the surrounding villages Stokebridge had won easily, and never were the games entered into with more zest than now. • The absence of bad language in the streets was sur- prising. The habit of restraint upon the tongue acquired in the club-rooms had spread, and two months after Jack's first proposal had been so coldly received, the proposition to extend the fines to swearing outside the walls as well as in was unanimously agreed to. The change in the demeanour of the girls was even greater. Besides the influence of Mrs. Dodgson and h T assistant, aided perhaps by the desire to stand well in the eyes of lads of the place, their boisterous habits had been toned down, dark neatly made dresses took the place of bright-coloured and flimsy ones; hair, faces, and hands showed more care and se f-respect. The example of the young people i ad not been with- out its influence upon the elders. Noi indeed upon the regular drinking set, but upon those who only occasion- ally gave way. The tidier and more comfortable hones, the better cooked meals, all had their effect; and all but brutalized men shrank from becoming objects of shame A COMING DANOKIt. 176 i bridge, )ed for set the young match quoits, id won ;h more r&a sur- tongue months jceived, outside eed to. a even )n and id well habits 3ok the faces, with- >on the casion- lones, all but shame I to their children. As to the women of Stokebridge they were for the most part delighted with the change. Some indeed grumbled at tlie new-fangled ways, and complained that their daughters were getting above them, but as the lesson tauglit in the night-classes was that the first duty of a girl or woman was to make her liome bright and happy, to bear patiently the tempers of others, to be a peacemaker and a help, to bear with children, and to respect elders, even the grumblers gave way at last. The very appearance of the village was changing. Pots of bright flowers stood in the windows, creepers and roses climbed over the walls, patches full of strag- gling weeds were now well-kept gardens; in fact, as Mr. Brook said one day to the vicar, one would hardly know the place. "There has indeed been a strange movement for good," the clergyman said, "and I cannot take any share of it to myself It has been going on for some time invisibly, and the night schools and classes for girls have given it an extraordinary impulse. It is a changed place altogether. I am sorry that the feast is at hand. It always does an immense deal of mischief, and is a time of quarrel, drunkenness, and license. I wish that something could be done to counteract its influence." " So do I," Mr. Brook said. " Can you advise any- thing?' ^■'1 (( I cannot," the vicar said ; " but I will put on my I If m 176 THiB EVILS OF THE FftASlL hat and walk with you down to the schoolhouse. To Dodgson and his wife is due the real credit of the change; they are indefatigable, and their influence is very great. Let us put the question to them." The schoolmaster had his evening class in; Mrs. Dodgson had ten girls working and reading in her par- lour, as she invited that number of the neatest and most quiet of her pupils to tea on each evening that her husband was engaged with liis night-scliool. These evenings were greatly enjoyed by the girls, and the hope of being included among the list of invited had done much towards producing a ciiange of manners. It was a fine evening, and the schoolmaster and his wife joined Mr. Brook out of doors, and apologizing for the room being full asked them to sit down in the rose-covered arboui- at the end of the garden. The vicar explained the oljecb of the visit. '* My wife and I have been talking the matter over, Mr. Brook," the schoolmaster said, "and we deplore these feasts, which are the bane of the place. They de- moralize the village; all sorts of good resolutions give way under temptation, and then those who have given way are ashamed to rejc in their better companions. It cannot be put down, I suppose?" " No," Mr. Brook said. " It is held in a field belong- ing to " The Chequers," and even did I succeed in get- ting it closed — which of course would be out of ther question — they would find some other site for the booths." e. To of the mce is ; Mrs. er par- d most lat her These be hope ,d done md his ogizing in the The ir over, leplore ley de- ls give given >ns. It )elong- in get- lof the^ )r tlie A OOUNTER-ATTRACTION. 177 "Would you be prepared to go to some expense to neutralize the bad effects of this feast, Mr. Brook?" "Certainly; any expense in reason." '* What 1 was thinking, sir, is that if upon the after- noon of the feast you could give a fete in your grounds, beginning with say a cricket match, followed by a tea, with conjuring or some such amusement afterwards — for I do not think that they would care for dancing — wind- ing up with sandwiches and cakes, and would invite the girls of my wife's sewing-classes with any other girls they may choose to bring with them, and the lads of my evening class, with similar permission to bring friends, we should keep all those who are really the moving spirits of the improvement which has taken place here out of reach of temptation." " Your idea is excellent," Mr. Brook said. "I will get the band of the regiment at Birmingham over, and we will wind up with a display of fireworks, and any other attraction which, after thinking the matter over, you can suggest, shall be adopted. I have greatly at heart the interests of my pitmen, and the fact that last year they were led away to play me a scurvy trick is all forgotten now. A good work has been set on foot here, and if we can foster it and keep it going, Stokebridge will in future years be a very different place to what it has been." Mr. Dodg on consulted Jack Simpson the next day as to the amusements likely to be most popular; but Jack suggested that Fred Wood and Bill Cummings (161) ag I I IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 4p ^ ^ 1.0 I.I ^121 12.5 US Z L£ 12.0 lii FhotograiM] Sdences CorpoHtiQn 23 WIST MAM STMIT WltSTH,N.Y. 14510 (71*)I72-4S0S 4^ ^ 6^ ^ -r ■PPWPPP 178 WISE COUNSliL. should be called into consultation, for, as he said, he knew nothing of girls' ways, and his opinions were worth nothing. His two friends were sent for and soon arrived. They agreed that a cricket-match would be the greatest attraction, and that the band of the sol- diers would delight the girls. It was arranged that a challenge should be sent to Batterbury, which lay thir- teen miles off, and would therefore know nothing of the feast. The Stokebridge team had visited them the sum- mer before and beaten them, therefore they would no doubt come to Stokebridge. They thought that a good conjuror would be an immense attraction, as such a thing had never been seen in Stokebridge, and that the fire- works would be a splendid wind up. Mr. Brook had proposed that a dinner for the contending cricket teams should be served in a marquee, but to tliis the lads objected, as not only would the girls be left out, but also the lads not engaged in the match. It would be better, they thought, for there to be a table with sand- wiches, buns, lemonade, and tea, from which all could help themselves. The arrangements were all made privately, as it was possible that the publicans might, were they aware of the intended counter attraction, change the day of the feast, although this was unlikely, seeing that it had from time immemorial taken place on the 8rd of Sep- tember except only when that day fell on a Sunday; still it was better to run no risk. A meeting of the "Bull- dogs " was called for the 27th of August, and at this THB 0IRU3 FOLLOW THE BOYS. 179 said, be >QS were for and ;h would f the sol- id that a lay thir- ng of the the sum- (vould no at a good ch a thing b the fire- Jrook had :et teams the lads out, but Iwould be ith sand- all could 1 as it was [aware oi Biy of the it it had of Sep- ^day; still le "BuU- at this Jack announced the invitation which had been received from Mr. Brook. A few were inclined to demur at giving up the jollity of the feast, but by this time the majority of the lads had gone heart and soul into the movement for improvement. The progress made had already been so great, the difficulties at first met had been so easily overcome, that they were eager to carry on the work. One or two of those most doubtful as to their own resolution were the most ready to accept the invitation of their employer, for it was morally certain that everyone would be drunk on the night of the feast, and it was an inexorable law of the " Bull-dogs " that any of the members getting drunk were expelled from that body. The invitation was at last accepted without a dissenting voice, the challenge to Batterbury written, and then the members went off to the associated clubs of which they were members to obtain the adhesion of these also to the f^te at Mr. Brook's. Mrs. Dodgson had harder work with the sewing-class. The attraction of the dancing and display of finery at the feast was greater to many of the girls than to the boys. Many eagerly accepted the invitation ; but it was not until Mr. Dodgson came in late in the evening and announced in an audible tone to his wife that he was glad to say that the whole of the young fellows of the night-school had accepted the invitation, that the girls all gave way and agreed to go to the f^te. Accordingly on the 3rd of September, just as the people f^m the pit villages round were flocking in to m n 180 A REAL HOLEDAT. Stokebridge, a hundred and fifty of the young people of that place, with a score or two of young married couples and steady men and women, set out in their Sunday suits for Mr. Brook's. It was a glorious day. The cricket-match was a great success, the military band was delightful, and Mr. Brook had placed it on the lawn, so that those of the young people who chose could dance to the inspiring strains. Piles of sandwiches disappeared during the afternoon, and the tea, cofiee, and lemonade were pronounced excellent. There was, too, a plentiful supply of beer for such of the lads as preferred it ; as Mr. Brook thought that it would look like a want of con- fidence in his visitors did he not provide them with beer. Batterbury was beaten soundly; and when it was dark the party assembled in a large marquee. There a conjuror first performed, and after giving all the usual wonders, produced from an inexhaustible box such pretty presents in the way of well-furnished work- bags and other useful articles for the girls that these were delighted. But the surprise of the evening was yet to come. It was not nine o'clock when the con- juror finished, and Mr. Dodgson was thinking anxiously that the party would be back in Stokebridge long before the feast was over. Suddenly a great pair of curtains across the end of the tent drew aside and a regular stage was seen. Mr. Brook had obtained the services of five or six actors and actresses from the Birmingham theatre, together with scenery and all ac- HONOUR TO WHOM HONOUR IS DUE. 181 cessories; and for two hours and a half the audiejice was kept in a roar of laiigliter by some well-acted farces. When the curtiiin fell at last, Mr. Brook himself came in front of it. So long and hearty was the cheering that it was a long time before he could obtain a hearing. At last silence was restored. "I am very glad, my friends," he said, "that you have had a happy afternoon and evening, and I hope that another year I shall see you all here again. 1 should like to say a few words before we separate. You ycung men, lads and lasses, will in a few years have a paramount influence in Stokebridge; upon you it de- pends whether that place is to be, as it used to be, like other colliery villages in Staffordshire, or to be a place inhabited by decent and civilized people. I am delighted to observe that a great change has lately come over it, due in a great measure to your good and kind friends Mr. and Mrs. Dodgson, who have devoted their whole time and efforts to your welfare." The cheeiing at this point was as great as that which had greeted Mr. Brook him- self, but was even surpassed by that which burst out when a young fellow shouted out, "and Jack Simpson." During this Jack Simpson savagely made his way out of the tent, and remained outside, muttering threats about punching heads, till the proceedings were over. "And Jack Simpson," Mr. Brook went on, smiling, after the cheering had subsided. " I feel sure that the improvement will be maintained. When you see the comfort of homes in which the wives are cleanly, tidy. ■ m 182 r.ooi) night! and intelligent, aV»le to make tlie dresses of t!t»'mselves Bnd tlieir cliildren, and to serve tl)eir liusbands with decently cooked food; and in which the husbands spend their evenings and their wages at home, treating their wives as rational beings, reading aloud, or engaged in cheerful conversation, and compare their homes with those of the drunkard and the slattern, it would seem impossible for any reasonable human being to hesitate in his or her choice between them. It is in your power, my friends, each and all, which of these homes shall be youra I have thought that some active amusement is necessary, and have arranged, after con- sultation with your vicar and with Mr. and Mrs, Dodgson, that a choir-master from Birmingham shall come over twice a week, to train such of you as may wish and may have voices, in choir-singing. As the lads of Stokebridge can beat those of any of the surrounding villages at cricket, so I hope in time the choir of the lads and lasses of this place will be able to hold its own against any other." Again the speaker had to pause, for the cheering was enthusiastic. " And now, good-night; and may I say that I hope and trust that when the fireworks, which will now be displayed, are over, you will all go home and straight to bed, without being tempted to join in the doings at the feast. II so, it will be a satisfaction to me to think that for the first time since the feast was first inaugurated, neither lad nor lass of Stokebridge will have cause to look back upon the f eaat-day with regret or ahame." CHAPTER XIX. THE GREAT RIOT. j|TOKEBRIDGE feast had Dot gone off with its usual spirit. The number of young pit- men and lads from the surrounding villages were as large as ever, and there was no lack of lasses in gay bonnets and bright dresses. The fact, however, that almost the whole of the lads and girls of Stokebridge between the ages of fifteen and eighteen had left the village and gone to a rival fete elsewhere, cast a damper on the proceedings. There were plenty of young women and young men in Stokebridge who were as ready as ever to dance and to drink, and who were, perhaps, even gaudier in attire and more bois- terous in manner than usual, as a protest against the recession of their juniors; for Stokebridge was divided into two very hostile camps, and, as was perhaps not unnatural, those over the age of the girls and lads at the night-schools resented the changes which had been made, and rebelled against the, as they asserted, airs of superiority of younger sisters and brothers. In some cases no doubt there was ground for the .' i ' f I Pi % / 184 A COWARDLY PLOT. feeling. The girls and lads, eager to introduce the new lessons of order and neatness which they had learned, may have gone too fast and acted with too much zeal, although their teacher had specially warned them against so doing. Hence the feeling of hostility to the movement was strong among a small section of Stokebridge, and the feeling was heightened by the secession in a body of the young people from the feast As the day went on the public-houses were as full as ever, indeed it was said that never before had so much liquor been consumed; the fiddles played and the dancing and boisterous romping went on as usual, but there was less real fun and enjoyment. As evening came on the young fellows talked together in angry groups. Whether the proposal emanated from some of the Stokebridge men or from the visitors from other villages was afterwards a matter of much dispute, but it gradually became whispered about among the dancing booths and public-houses that there was an intention to give the party from Brook's a warm reception when they arrived. Volleys of mud and earth were prepared, and some of the overdressed young women tossed their heads, and said that a spattering with mud would do the stuck-up girls no harm. The older pitmen, who would have certainly opposed any such design being carried out, were kept in ignor- ance of what was intended ; the greater portion were indeed drunk long before the time came when the party would be returnins; from the f^te. OIVINO THE ALARM. 186 ,ce tbe )y had ith too v^arned ostility 3tion of by the le feast 3 full as 10 much md the ual, but evening a angry some of m other ute, but dancing itention in when |repared, led their ould do opposed In ignor- |on were le party At a quarter before twelve Jane Haden, who had been sitting quietly at home, went up to the "Chequers" to look after her husband, and to bee about his being brought home should he be incapable of walking. The music was still playing in the dancing booths, but the dancing was kept up without spirit, for a number of young men and lads were gathered outside. As she passed she caught a few words which were sufficient to inform her of what was going on. " Get some sticks oot o' hedges." "Fill your pockets oop wi' stones." " We'll larn *em to spoil the feast." Jane saw that an attack was going to be made upon the party, and hesitated for a moment what to do. The rockets were going up in Mr. Brook's grounds, and she knew she had a few minutes yet. First she ran to the house of James Shepherd. The pitman, who was a sturdy man, had been asleep for the last three hours. She knocked at the door, unlocked it, and went, in. " Jim,** she called in a loud voice. "Aye, what be't?*' said a sleepy voice upstairs; "be't thou, Harry and Sally?" "No, it be I, Jane Haden; get up quickly, Jim; quick, man, there be bad doings, and thy lad and lass are like to have their heads broke if no worse." Alarmed by the words and the urgent manner of his neighbour, Jim and his wife slipped on a few clothes and came down. Jane at once told them what she had heard. ^tmsi^m MMHril 186 JANE HADEN'S MESSAO& " Tliere he between two and three hundred of 'em,** Hhe said, "as far as I could see the wust lot out o* Stokebridge, and a lot o' roughs from t' other villages. Quick, Jim, do you and Ann go round quick to the houses o' all the old hands who ha' kept away from the feast or who went home drunk early, they may ha* slept *t off by this, and get 'un together. Let *em take pick-helves, and if there's only twenty of ye and ye fall upon this crowd ye'll drive *em. If ye doan't it will go bad wi' all our lads and lasses. 1*11 go an* warn *em, and tell 'em to stop a few minutes on t' road to give *ee time to coom up. My Jack and the lads will foight, no fear o' that, but they can't make head agin so many armed wi* sticks and stones too; but if ye come up be- hind and fall on 'em when it begins ye'll do, even though they be stronger." Fully awake now to the danger which threatened the young people, for the pitman and his wife knew that when blows were exchanged and blood heated things would go much further than was at first intended, they hurried off to get a few men together, while Jane Haden started for the hall Already the riotous crowd had gone on and she had to make a detour, but she regained the road, and burst breathless and panting into the midst of the throng of young people coming along the lane chatting gaily of the scenes of the evening. "Stop, stop I" she cried; "don't go a foot further — where be my Jack?'* ' rt ▲ ORAFTY DEVIOK. 187 ** r 'em, out o* illages. to the •J from lay ha* m take ye fall will go rn 'em, bo give foight, ) many up be- though led the sw that things t, they Jane id she I, and lof the latting Ither — "It's Mrs. Haden," Nelly Hardy said. "Jack, it's your mother." " What is it?" Jack said in astonishment " Anything wrong wi' dad?" "Stop!" Mrs. Haden gasped again; "there's three hundred and more young chaps and boys wi' sticks and stones joost awaiting on this side t'village, awaiting to pay you all oot." Ejaculations of alarm were heard all round, and several of the girls began to whimper. ** Hush I " Mr. Dodgson said, coming forward " Let all keep silence, there may be no occasion for alarm ; let US hear all about it, Mrs. Haden." Mrs. Haden repeated her story, and said tliat Harry's father and mother were getting a body of pitmen to help them. "I think, Mr. Dodgson," said Jack, "the girls had best go back to Mr. Brook's as quickly as possible; we will come and fetch them when it's all over." " I think so too," said Mr. Dodgson, " they might be injured by stones. My dear, do you lead the girls back to Mr. Brook's. The house will hardly be shut up yet, and even if it is, Mr. Brook will gladly receive you. There is no chance of any of the ruffians pursuing them« do you think. Jack, when they find they have only us to deal with?" " I don't know, sir. If three or four of us were to put on their cloaks, something light to show in the dark, they will think the girls are among u&" I <' ■>\ il 188 PREPARING FOR BATTLA «i Quick! here they come," Mr. Dodgson said, "go back silently, girls, not a word." Two or three cloaks and shawls were hastily bor- rowed and the lada then turned up the road, where the sound of suppressed laughter and coarse oaths could be heard, while the young women went off at a rapid pace towards the halL " There are four of the clubs, nigh twenty in each/' Jack said; " let each club keep together and go right at 'em. Stick together whatever ye do." " I'll take my place by you, Jack/' Mr. Dodgson said; "you are our captain now." Talking in a careless voice the party went forward. The road here was only divided from the fields on either side by a newly planted hedge of a foot or so in height. Jack bad arranged that he, with the few married pit- men, Mr. Dodgson, and the eight Bull-dogs who did not belong to the other associations, should hold the road ; that two of the other clubs should go on each side, fight their way as far as they could, and then close in on the road to take the assailants there on both flanks. The spirit of association did wonders; many of the lads were but fourteen or fifteen, yet all gathered under their respective leaders and prepared for what they felt would be a desperate struggle. Presently they saw a dark mass gathered in the road. As soon as the light shawls were seen there was a cry of " Here they be, give it 'em well, lads; " and a volley ire was a I A DESPERATE 8TRUQ0L1. 189 of whafc were, in the majority of cases, clods of earth, but among which were many stones, was poured in. Without an instant's pause the party attacked separated, two bands leapt into the field on eitlier side, and then the whole rushed at the assailants. No such charge as this had been anticipated. The cowardly ruffians had expected to give a complete sui prise, to hear the shrieks of the girls, and perhaps some slight resistance from a few of the older lads; the suddenness of this attack astonished them. In an instant Jack and his supporters were in their midst, and the fury which animated them at this cowardly attack, and the unity of their action, bore all before them ; and in spite of their sticks the leaders of the assailants were beaten to the ground. Then the sheer weight of the mass behind stopped the advance and the conflict became a general one. In the crowd and confusion it was difficult to distinguish friend from foe, and this prevented the assailants from making full use of their stakes, rails, and otlirr implements with which they were armed. They were, however, getting the best of it, Mr. Dodgson had been knocked down with a heavy stake and several others were badly hurt, when the strong bands in the field who had driven back the scattered assailants there, fell upon the flanks of the main body in the road. For five minutes the fight was a desperate one, and then, just as numbers and weapons were telling, there was a shout in the rear, and fifteen pitmen, headed by I iiN 'I i' ! 190 PRISONERS AND WOUNDED. Jim Shepherd and armed with pick handles, as formid- able weapons as could be desired in the hands of strong men, fell upon the rear of the assailants. Yells, shouts, and heavy crashing blows told the tale to those engaged in front ; and at once the assailants broke and scattered in flight. "Catch *em and bring 'em down," Jack shouted; " they shall pay for this night's work." Such of the lads as were not disabled started off, and being fleet of foot, those of the assailants nearest to them had little chance of escape. Two or three lads together sprung upon one and pulled him down, and so when the pursuit ended twenty-nine of the assail- ants had fallen into their handa In addition to this a score of tham lay or sat by the road with broken heads and bones, the work of the pitmen's weapons. Of the lads the greater part had been badly knocked about, and some lay insensible in the road. The prisoners were brought together, five of the pitmen with twenty of the lads marched with those able to walk, to the village, where they shut them up in the school-room. The other pitmen remained in charge of the wounded of both sides, and the rest of the party were sent back to Mr. Brook's to fetch the women and girls. Near the house they met Mr. Brook, accompanied by his two men-servants and gardener, armed with spades, hurrying forward; and he expressed his delight at the issue of the conflict, but shook his head at the number of serious injuries on both sides. SERIOUS ALARMS. 191 i, as formid- ds of stronjr ells, shouts, ose engaged id scattered k shouted; ted off, and nearest to tliree lads down, and the assail- ion to this ith broken eapons. y knocked >ad. The le pitmen ie able to up in the charge of ihe party omen and ompanied oed with is delight Eul at the In a shed near the house were a number of hurdles, and twenty of these were at once sent forward with the men to carry those unable to walk into the village. Mrs. Dodgson turned pale as her husband, his face covered with blood, entered the dining-room, where, huddled together, the frightened girls were standing; Mrs. Dodgson, aided by Nelly Hardy, having done her utmost to allay their fears. " I am not hurt," Mr. Dodgson said heartily, " at least not seriously ; but I fear that some are. It is all over now, and those ruffians have fled. Jack Simpson and a party are outside to escort you home. We don't know who are hurt yet, but they will be carried to the girls' school- room and attended there. Harry Shepherd has gone on to get the doctor up, and Mr. Brook is sending off' a man on horseback to Birmingham for some more medi- cal aid and a body of police to take charge of the fellows we have captured ; they will be in by the early train." Everything was quiet in Stokebridge when the party with the prisoners arrived. The pitmen, before start- ing, had gone into the public-house to get any sober enough to walk to join them ; and the few who had kept up the dancing, alarmed at the serious nature oi the affair, of which they had tacitly approved, scattered to their homes. The news of the conflict, however, quickly circulated, lights appeared in windows, and the women who had sons or daughteis at the fete flocked out into the streets to bear the news. Many other pitmen, whom there 1 1" liili i'i 193 THB ESCAPE OF THE OIRL& had not been time enough to summon, soon joined them, and deep indeed was the wrath with whicii the news of the assault was received. Most of the men at once hurried away to the scene of conflict to see who were hurt, and to assist to carry them in ; and the sole ground for satisfaction was that the women and girls had all escaped injury. CHAPTER XX THE ABM OF THE LAW. a HAT was a sad night at Stokebridge. Seven of the lads were terribly injured, and in two cases the doctors gave no hope of recovery. Thirteen of the other party were also griev- ously hurt by the blows of the pitmen's helves, seme had limbs broken, and three lay unconscious all night Most of the boys had scalp wounds, inflicted by stones or sticks, which required dressing. Worst of all was the news that among the twenty-five uninjured pri- soners were eight who belonged to Stokebridge, beeides five among the wounded. Very few in the village closed an eye that night Mothers went down and implored the pitmen on guard to release their sons, but the pitmen were firm ; more- over Mr. Brook as a magistrate had placed the two constables of the place at the door, with the strictest order to allow none of the prisoners to escape. The six o'clock train brought twenty policemen from Bir- mingham, and these at once took charge of the school- house, and relieved the pitmen of their charge. The (lei) N ikM ft m I'; id4 THE WitNESSBS. I '■ working of the mine was suspended for the day, and large numbers of visitors poured into the place. So desperate a riot had never occurred in that neighbour- hood before, for even the attack upon the machinery of the mine was considered a less serious affair than this. Not only did curiosity to learn the facts of the case attract a crowd of visitors, but there were many people who came from the pit villages near to inquire after missing husbands and sons, and loud were the wailings of women when it was found that these were either prisoners or were lying injured in the temporary hospital Strangers entering the village would have supposed that a great explosion had taken place in some neigh- bouring pit. Blinds were down, women stood at the doors with their aprons to their eyes, children went about in an awed and silent way, as if afraid of the sound of their own voice, many of the young men and lads had their heads enveloped in surgical bandages, and a strange and unnatural calm pervaded the village. The "Chequers" and other public-houses, however, did a roaring trade, for the sight-seer in the black country is the thirstiest of men. It was soon known that the magistrates would sit at Mr. Brook's at one o'clock, and a policeman went round the village with a list of names given him by Mr Dodgson, to summon witnesses to attend. Jack Simp- son had strongly urged that his name might not be L^ THE lUmoS HOOIL m included, in the first place because above all things he hated being put forward, and in the second, as he pointed out to the schoolmaster, it might excite a feeling against him, and hinder his power for good, if he, the leader of the young men, was to appear as a witness against the elders, especially as among the prisoners was Tom Walker, with whom he had fought As Jack could give no more testimony than his com- panions, and as generally it was considered an im- portant and responsible privilege to appear as wit* ness, Mr. Dodgson omitted Jack's name from the list. There was some groaning in the crowd when the un- injured prisoners were marched out under escort of the police, for the attack upon young women was so con- trary to all the traditions of the country that the liveliest indignation prevailed against all concerned in it The marquee used the night before for the theatri- cals had been hastily converted into a justice room. At a table sat Mr. Brook with four other magistrates, with a clerk to take notes ; the prisoners were ranged in a space railed off for the purpose, and the general public filled the rest of the space. Jane Haden was the first witness called. She gave her evidence clearly, but with an evident wish to screen some of the accused, and was once or twice sharply reproved by the bench. She eould not say who were among the men she saw gathered, nor recognize any of those who had used the threatening expressions whi^ P 11 M ilN I 196 THB TRIAL had SO alarmed her that she went round to arouse the elder men, and then ran off to warn the returning party. " Mrs. Haden/' Sir John Butler, who was the chair- man of the magistrates, said, " very great praise is due to you for your quickness and decision ; had it not been for this there can be no doubt that the riot would have led to results even more disastrous than those which have taken place. At the same time it is the feeling of the court that you are now trying to screen the ac- cused, for it can hardly be, that passing so close you could fail to recognize some of those whom you heard speak." Mr. Dodgson then gave his evidence, as did several of the lads, who proved the share that the accused had taken in the fray, and that they were captured on the spot ; while two of the pitmen proved that when they arrived upon the spot a desperate riot was going on, and that they joined in the fray to assist the party attacked. The examination lasted for four houra, at the end oi which the whole of the prisoners were remanded to prison, the case being adjourned for two day& Before these were passed, both the lads whose cases had been thought hopeless from the first, died, and the matter assumed even a more serious appearance. Be- fore the next hearing several of the prisoners offered to turn king's evidence, and stated that they had been incited by the young women at the feast !^y_! THE SENTENCE. ld7 Great excitement was caused in the village when ten or twelve young women were served with warrants to appear on the following day. They were placed in the dock with the other prisoners, but no direct evidence was taken against them. The number of the accused were further swelled by two men belonging to other villages, who had been arrested on the sworn evidence of some of the lads that they had been active in the fray. At the conclusion of the case the whole of the male prisoners were committed for trial on the charges of manslaughter and riot. After these had been removed in custody, Sir John Butler addressed a severe admoni- tion to the women. It had, he said, been decided not to press the charge against them of inciting to riot, but that they had used expressions calculated to stir the men up to their foul and dastardly attack upon a number of young women and girls there could be no doubt. The magistrates, how- ever, had decided to discharge them, and hoped that the inward reproach which they could not but feel at having a hand in this disgraceful and fatal outrage would be a lesson to them through life. Trembling and abashed, the women made their way home, many of the crowd hissing them as they passed along. When, six weeks later, the assizes were held, four of the prisoners, including Tom Walker, who was proved to be the leader, were sentenced to seven years penal III m i'.H m I ii 198 EFFECTS OK "THE DLACK FEAST. Mtvitude. Ten men had terms ol imprisonmetit vnr>'- \i\g from two to five years, and the rent were let off with sentences of from six to eigliteen months. Very long did the remembrance of "The Black Feast," as it came to be called, linger in the memories of the people of Stokebridge and the surrounding dis- trict Great as was the grief and suffering caused alike to the friends of those injured and of those upon whom fell punishment and disgrace, the ultimate effect of the riot was, however, most beneficial to Stokebridge. Many of the young men who had most strongly opposed and derided the efforts of their juniors to improve them- selves, were now removed, for in addition to those cap- tured and sentenced, several of those who had taken part in the riot hastily left the place upon the follow- ing day, fearing arrest and punishment for their share in the night's proceedings. Few of tliem returned after the conclusion of the trial, nor did the prisoners after the termination of their sentences, for the feeling against them in the district was so strong that they preferred obtaining work in distant parts of the country. A similar effect was produced upon the young women. The narrow escape which they had had of being sent to prison, the disgrace of being arrested and publicly censured, the averted looks of their neighbours, and the removal from the place ot the young men with whom they had been used to aAfK)ciate, combined to produce a great effect upon them. ^1 ir ▲ UBXRAL OFTEB. 199 Some profited by the lesson and adapted themselves to the altered ways of the place; others, after trying to brave it out, left Stokebridge and obtained employment in the factories of Birmingham; while others again, previously engaged to some of the young men who had left the village, were sooner or later married to them, and were heard of no more in Stokebridge. -?his removal by one means or another of some forty or fifty of the young men and women of the place most opposed to the spirit of improvement, produced an excellent effect. Other miners came of course to the village to take the places of those who had left, but as Mr. Brook instructed his manager to fill up the vacant stalls as far as possible with middle-aged men with families, and not with young men, the new-comers were not an element of disturbance. The price of coal was at this time high, and Mr. Brook informed the clergyman that, as he was drawing a larger income than usual from the mines, he was willing to give a sum for any purpose which he might recommend as generally useful to the families of his work-people. The vie; ts usual consulted his valued assistants the Dodgsons, and after much deliberation it was agreed that if a building were to be erected the lower story of which should be fitted up as a laundry and wash-house upon the plan which was then being introduced in some large towns, it would be an immense boon to the place. The upper story was to be furnished as a reading-room with a few papers and a small library of useful and ivi 200 READINO AND WASHING. entertaining books for reading upon the spot or lending. Plans were obtained and estimates given, and Mr. Brook expressed his willingness to contribute the sum of eigh- teen hundred pounds for which a contractor offered to complete the work. ^f^** /U "'"""fl:v"*"'*l 'ifesRira' ^^m^j^^ (I i ^ CHAPTER XXI. ▲ KNOTTY QUESTION. T has not been mentioned that at the fete at Mr. Brook s on the memorable occasion of the Black Feast, Mr. Merton and his daughter were staying as guests with Mr. Brook. Mr. Merton was much struck with the extra- ordinary improvement which had taken place in the bearing and appearance of the young people. "Yes," Mr. Dodgson, whom he congratulated upon the change, said ; '* it is entirely due to the suggestion which you made upon my arrival here. The night- schools for lads and the sewing and cooking classes for the girls have done wonders, and I have found in the lad you recommended to my attention, Jack Simpson, an invaluable ally. Without him, indeed, I think that our plan would have been a failure. He is a singular young fellow, so quiet yet so determined ; the influence he has over the lads of his own age is immranse.'' '^e is more than singular," Mr. Merton said warmly; "he is extraordinary. You only see one side of his character, I see both. A^ a scholar he is altogether Hi I; ' ■ m vi !!:P •■iZ 202 ▲ SUNDAY SUIT. D• It was >e a great m, caring •ssaulting patiently anks had } so well an event t would, Hardy received the sick ow cease; ; "th' old id Nelly Wolver- mother lad pre- e during ler spirit 1 almost CnAPTER XXIL THE SOLUTION. ](§ MONG others who talked over Nelly Hardy's future were Mr. and Mi a. Dodgson. They were very fond of her, for from the first she had been th« steadiest and most in- dustrious of the young girls of the place, and by dili- gent study had raised herself far in advance of the resi She had too been always so willing and ready to oblige and help that she was a great favourite with both. "I have been thinking," Mrs. Dodgson said to her husband on the evening of the day of John Hardy's death, "whether, as Miss Bolton, the assistant mistress, is going to leave at the end of the month, to be married, Nelly Hardy would not make an excellent successor for her. There is no doubt she is fully capable of filling the situation; her manners are all that could be wished, and she has great influence with the younger children. The only drawback was her disreputable old father. It would hardly have done for my assistant to appear in school in the morning with a black eye, and for all the children to know that (1«1) * f r.\ ill 1 1 ^10 ItRS. dodoson's pian. m her drunken father had been beating her. Now he is gone that objection i8 at an end. She and her mother, who has been as bad as the father, but is now, I believe, almost imbecile, could live in the little cottage Miss Bolton occupies." "I think it would be an excellent plan, my dear, excellent; we could have no one we should like better, or who could be a more trustworthy and helpful assis- tant to you. By all means let it be Nelly Hardy. I will go up and speak to Mr. Brook to-morrow. As he is our patron I must consult him, but he will agree to anything we propose. Let us say nothing about it until you tell her yourself after the funeral." Mrs. Dodgson saw Nelly Hardy several times in the next few days, and went in and sat with her as she worked at her mourning ; but it was not until John Hardy was laid in the churchyard that she opened the subject " Come up in the morning, my dear," she had said that day; " I want to have a talk with you." On the following morning Nelly, in her neatly-fitting black mourning dress, made her appearance at the school-house, after breakfast, a quarter of an hour before school began. " Sit down, my dear," Mrs. Dodgson said, "I have some news to give you which will, I think, please you. Of course you have been thinking what to do?" " Yes, 'm ; I have made up my mind to try and get work in a fiictory," A HAPPY SURPRISB. Ill ow he is mother, believe, ige Miss ny dear, :e better, ful assis- ardy. I \ As he rill agree ; about it les in the pr as she itil John tened the had said [y-fitting at the ir before \*1 have je you. land ge "Indeed! Nelly," Mrs. Do^gson said, surprised; "1 should have thought that was the last thing that you would like." "It is not what I like," Nelly said quietly, "but what is best I would rather go into service, and as I am fond of children and used to them, I might, with your kind recommendation, get a comfortable situation ; but in that case mother must go to the house, and I could not bear to think of her there. She is very helpless, and of late she has come to look to me, and would be miserable among strangers. I could earn enough at a factory to keep us both, living very closely." " Well, Nelly, your decision does you honour, but I think my plan is better. Have you heard that Miss Bolton is going to leave us ? " " I have heard she was engaged to be married some day, 'm, but I did not know the time was fixed." " She leaves at the end of this month, that is in a fort- night, and her place has alre^^y been filled up. Upon the recommendation of myself and Mr. Dodgson, Mr. Brook has appointed Miss Nelly Hardy as her suc- cessor." •'Mel" exclaimed Nelly, rising with a bewildered air. " Oh, Mrs. Dodgson, you cannot mean it ? " "I do, indeed, Nelly. Your conduct here has been most satisfactory in every way, you have a great in- fluence with the children, and your attainments and knowledge are amply sufficient for the post of my assistant You wiU, of coitrse, faftve Miss BoHon'i / / i! 212 THE CONFIDENTIAL CORNER. cottage, and can watch over your mother. You will have opportunities for studying to fit yourself to take another step upwards, and become a head-mistress some day." Mrs. Dodgson had continued talking, for she saw that Nelly was too much agitated and overcome to speak. '* Oh, Mrs. Dodgson," she sobbed, " how can I thank you enough?" "There are no thanks due, my dear. Of course I want the best assistant I can get, and I know of no one upon whom I can rely more thoroughly than your- self. You have no one but yourself to thank, for it is your good conduct and industry alone which have made you what you are, and that under circumstances of the most unfavourable kind. But there is the bell ringing for school I suppose I may tell Mr. Brook that you accept the situation ; the pay, thirty pounds a year and the cottage, is not larger, perhaps, than you might earn at a factory, but I think — " *' Oh, Mra Dodgson," Nelly said, smiling through her tears, " I accept, I accept I would rather live on a crust of bread here than work in a factory, and if I had had the choice of everything I should profer this." Mr. Dodgson here came in, shook Nelly's hand and congiatulated her, and with a happy heart the girl took her way home. Jack, upon his return from the pit, found Nelly awaiting him at the comer where for years she had QUITE A NEW HINT. 213 stood. He had seen her once since her father's death, and had pressed her hand warmly to express his sym- pathy, but he was too honest to condole with her on a loss which was, he knew, a relief. He and Harry had in the intervening time talked much of Nelly's pros- pects. Jack was averse in the extreme to her going into service, still more averse to her going into a factory, but could suggest no alternative plaa "If she were a boy," he said, "it would be easy enough. I am getting eighteen shillings a week now, and could let her have five easily, and she might take in dressmaking. There are plenty of people in the villages round would be glad to get their dresses made ; but she would have to live till she got known a bit, and you know she wouldn't take my five shillings. I wouldn't dare offer it to her. Now if it was you there would be no trouble at all ; you would take it, of course, just as I should take it of you, but she wouldn't, because she's a lass — it beats me altogether. I might get mother to offer her the money, but Nelly would know it was me sharp enough, and it would be all the same." " I really think that Nelly might do well wi' dress- making," Harry said after a pause. '*Here all the lasses ha' learnt to work, but, as you say, in the other villages they know no more than we did here three years back ; if we got some bills printed and sent 'em round, I should say she might do. There are other things you don't seem to ha' thought on, Jack," he said hesitatingly. " You're only eighteen yet, but you are earning near a /. >\\ Tji in I 2U ▲ FRIBND't 00NFXB8I0IV. pound a week, and in another two or three years will be getting man's pay, and you are sure to rise. Have you never thought of marrying Nelly 9 " Jack jumped as if he had trodden on a snake. " I marry Nelly!" he said in astonishment " What! I marry Nelly ! are you mad, Harry? You know I have made up my mind not to marry for years, not till I'm thirty and have made my way; and as to Nelly, why I never thought of her, nor of any other lass in that way; her least of all; why, she is like my sister. What ever put such a ridiculous idea in your head? Why, at eighteen boys haven't left school and are looking for- ward to going to college ; those boy and girl marriages among our class are the cause of half our troubles. Thirty is quite time enough to marry. How Nelly would laugh if she knew what you'd said!" "I should advise you not to tell her/' Harry said dryly; " I greatly mistake if she would regard it as a laughing matter at all" "No, lasses are strange things," Jack meditated again. *'But, Harry, you are as old as I am, and are earning the same wage; why don't you marry her?" " I would," Harry said earnestly, "to-morrow if she'd have ma" "You would!" Jack exclaimed, as much astonished as by his friend's first proposition. " To think of that now! Why, you have always been with her just as 1 have. You have never sho\ n that you cared for iier, **PEOrLB SAT SO.' 215 never given her presents, nor walked with her, nor anything. And do you really care for her, Harry?" " Aye," Harry said shortly, " 1 have cared for her for years." " And to think that I have never seen that!" Jack said. " Why didn't you tell me? Why, you are as difficult to understand as she is, and I thought 1 knew you so well!" "What would have been the use?" Harry said. " Nelly likes me as a friend, that's all." " That's it," Jack said. " Of course when people are friends they don't think of each other in any other way. Still, Harry, she may get to in time. Nelly's pretty well a woman, she's seventeen now, but she has no one else after her that I know of" " Well, Jack, I fancy she could have plenty after her, for she's the prettiest and best girl o* the place ; but you see, you are always about wi' her, and I think that most people think it will be a match some day." " People are fools," Jack burst out wrathfuUy. " Who says so? just tell me who says so?" " People say so, Jack. When a young chap and a lass walk together people suppose there is something in it, and you and Nelly ha' been walking together for the last five yeara" "Walking together!" Jack repeated angrily; "we have been going about together of course, and you have generally been with us, and often enough half-a-dozen others; that is not like walking together. Nelly knew, / 'Ai ■J liiM t ! 316 HARRY OPENS HIS HEART. and every one knew, that we agreed to be friends from the day we stood on the edge of the old shaft when you were in the water below, and we have never changed since." "1 know you have never changed, Jack, never thought of Nelly but as a true friend. I did not know whether now you might think differently. I wanted to hear from your own lips. Now I know you don't, that you have no thought of ever being more than a true friend to her, I shall try if I cannot win her." "Do," Jack said, shaking his friend's hand. "I am sure I wish you success. Nothing in the world would please me so mucli as to see my two friends marry, and though I do think, yes, I really do, Harry, that young man iages are bad, yet I am quite sure that you and Nelly would be happy together anyhow. And when do you mean to ask her?" "What an impatient fellow you are, Jack!" Harry said smiling. " Nelly has no more idea that I care for her tS»n you had, and I am not going to tell her so all at cnce. I don't think," he said gravely, " mark me, Jack, I don't think Nelly will ever have me, but if patience and love can win her I shall succeed in the end." Jack looked greatly surprised again. *' Don't say any more about it, Jack," Harry went on. " It 'ull be a long job o' work, but I can bide my time; but above all, if you wish me well, do not even breathe a word to Nelly of what I have said." From this interview Jack departed much mystified. nds from ^hen you changed ' thought whether to hear that you le friend "I am id would irry, and ,t young you and id when 1" Harry '. care for ler so all lark me, e, but if bhe end." Ty went bide my do not laid." )^stified. f, ! THE NEW SCHOOLMISTRESS. nelly's qood fortunk 217 " It seems to me," ho muttered to himself, " lads when they're in love get to be like lasses, there's no under- standing them. I know nowt of love myself, and what I've read in boolo didn't seem natural, but I suppose it must be true, for even Harry, who I thought I knew as well as myself, turned as mysterious as — well as a ghost. What does he mean by he's got to be patient, and to wait, and it will be a long job. If he likes Nelly and Nelly likes him — and why shouldn't shel^ — I don't know why they shouldn t marry in a year or two, though I do hate young marriages. Anyhow I'll talk to her about the dressmaking idea. If Harry's got to make love to her, it will be far better for him to do it here than to have to go walking her out o' Sundays at Birmingham. If she would but let me help her a bit till she's got into business it would be a^ easy as possible." Jack, however, soon had the opportunity of laying his scheme fully before Nelly Hardy, and when she had turned off from the road with him she broke out: " Oh, Jack, I have such a piece of news; but perhaps you know it, do you?" she asked jealously. " No, I don't know any particular piece of news." " Not anything likely to interest me, Jack?'' " No," Jack said puzzled. *' jlonour, you haven't the least idea what it is?" " Honour, I haven't," Jack said. ** I'm going to be a schoolmistress in place of Miss Bolton." ^ ^i'jil ml JirMJli^f^f* F1 218 ▲ OBATIFUL SOULb "No!" Jack shouted delightedly; "1 am glad, Nelly, I am glad. Why, it is just the thing for you; Harry and I have been puzzling our heads all the week as to what you should do!" " And what did your united wisdom arrive at V* Nelly laughed. "We thought you might do here at dressmaking," Jack said, " after a bit, you know." " The thought was not a bad one," she said ; " it never occurred to me, and had this great good fortune not have come to me I might perhaps have tried It was good of you to think of it. And so j'^ou never heard a whisper about the schoolmistress? I thought you might perhaps have suggested it somehow, you know you always do suggest things here." " No, indeed, Nelly, I did not hear Miss Bolton was going." *' I am glad," the girl said. " Are you ? " Jack replied in surprise. " Why, Nelly, wouldn't you have liked me to have helped you ? " " Yes and no. Jack ; but no more than yes. I do owe everything to you. It was you who made me your friend, you who taught me, you who urged me on, you who have made me what I am. No, Jack, dear," she said, seeiug that Jack looked pained at her thanks ; "I have never thanked you before, and I must do it now. I owe everything to you, and in one way I should have been pleased to owe this to you also, but in another way I am pleased not to do so, because my gaining it A SOLEMN PROMISE. 219 id, Nelly, a; Harry reek as to it r' Nelly smaking," " it never rtune not L It was er heard a you might ^now you lolton was hy, Nelly, ou?" res. I do made me ;ed me on, ,ck, dear," ir thanks ; do it now. ould have another ;aining it by, if I may say so, my own merits, show that I have done my best to prove worthy of your kindness and friendship." Tears of earnestness stood in her eyes, and Jack felt that disclaimer would be ungracious. " I am glad," he said again after a pause. " And now, Miss Hardy," and he touched his hat laughing, "that you have risen in the world, I hope you are not going to take airs upon yourself" Nelly laughed. " It is strange," she said, " that I should be the first to take a step upwards, for Mrs. Dodgson is going to help me to go in and qualify for a head-schoolmistress-ship some ua.y ; but. Jack, it is only for a little time. You laugh and call me Miss Hardy to-day, but the time will come when I shall say ' sir ' to you ; you are longer beginning, but you will rise far higher; but we shall always be friends; shall we not, Jack?" "Always, Nelly," Jack said earnestly. *' Wherever or whatever Jack Simpson may be, he will ever be your true and faithful friend, and nothing which may ever happen to me, no rise I may ever make, will give me the pleasure which this good fortune which has befallen you has done. If I ever rise it will make me happy to help Harry, but I know you would never have let me help you, and this thought would have marred my life. Now tha« I see you in a position in which I am sure you will be successful, and whicli is an honourable and pleasant one, I shall the more enjoy n ' i \H ^1% "P In [1 rf 220 HARRT TBUfi HIS LOVB. my rise when it comes.— Does any ona else know of it?" be asked as they went on their way. " No one," she said. " Who should know it before you ? " ** Hany will be as glad as I am/' he said, remember- ing his friend's late assertion. " Yes, Harry will be very glad too," Nelly said ; but Jack felt that Harry's opinion was of comparatively little importance in her eyes. "He is a good honest fellow is Harry, and I am sure he will be pleased, and so I hope will everyone." Jack felt that the present moment was not a propi- tious one for putting in a word for his friend. Harry Shepherd carried out his purpose. For two years he waited, and then told his love to Nelly Hardy, one bright Sunday afternoon when they were walking in the lane. "No, Harry, no," she said humbly and sadly; "it can never be, do not ask me, I am so, so sorry." " Can it never be? " Harry asked. " Never," the girl said ; " you know yourself, Harry, it can never be. I have seen this coming on for two years now, and it has grieved me so; but you know, I am sure you know, why it cannot be." " I know," the young fellow said. " I have always known that you cared for Jack a thousand times more than for me, and it's quite natural, for he is worth a thousand of me ; but then, then — " and he hesitated. " But then." she went on. " Jack does not love me. ►wofit?" it before emember- said; but )aratively od honest $ased, and b a propi- For two ly Hardy, walking idly; "it f, Harry, for two know, I [e always les more worth a sitated. Ilove me, BXPLAMATIONS. 221 and you do. That is so, Harry ; but since I was a child I have loved him. I kaow, none better, that he never thought of me except as a friend, that he scarcely con- sidered me as a girl. I have never thought that it would be otherwise. I could hardly wish that it were. Jack will rise to be a great man, and must marry a lady, but," she said steadfastly, " I can go on loving him tiU I die." "I have not hoped much, Nelly, but remember always, that I have always cared for you. Since you first became Jack's friend I have cared for you. If he had loved you I could even stand aside and be glad to see you both happy, but I have known always that this could never be. Jack's mind was ever so much given up to study, he is not like us, and does not dream of a house and love till he has made his mark in the world. Remember only that I love you as you love Jack, and shall love as faithfully. Some day, perhaps, long hence," he added as Nelly shook her head, "you may not think differently, but may come to see that it is better to make one man's life happy than to cling for ever to the remembrance of another. At any rate you will always think of me as your true friend, Nelly, always trust me ? " " Always, Harry, in the future more than lately, for I have seen this coming. Now that we understand each other we can be quite friends again." ■f m r )it|vii}f^^, F=l=T=t=I=J=T=!rT=L-r^-^^ ^ ' ^ ' * >■ ' ^ i-^i-^i-^l^-l^-l-^i-L-i. K^ CHAPTER XXIIL THE EXPLOSION AT THE YAUOHAN. y§ T twelve o'clock on a bright summer day Mr. Brook drove up in his dog- cart, with two gentlemen, to the Yaughan mine. One was the government inspector of the district; the other, a newly-appointed deputy inspector, whom he was taking his rounds with him, to instruct in his duties. " I am very sorry that Thompson, my manager, is away to-day," Mr. Brook said as they alighted. " Had I known you were coming I would of course have had him in readiness to go round with you. Is Williams, the underground manager, in the pit?" he fusked the bankman, whose duty it was to look after the ascending and descending cage. " No, sir; he came up about half an hour ago. Wat- kins, the viewer, is below." " He must do, then," Mr. Brook said, " but I wish Mr. Thompson had been her& Perhaps you would like to look at the plan of the pit before you go down? Is Williams's office open?" f. ler day Mr. i, with two ). One was iistrict; the r, whom he ,ruct in his manager, is ted. "Had Be have had Williams, asked the e ascending ago. Wat- Ihut I wish would like down? Is tHE MINING PLAN. 223 ** Yes, sir," the hankman answered. Mr. Brook led the way into the office. *' Hullo!" he said, seeing a young man at work making a copy of a mining plan; " who are you?" The young man rose — "Jack Simpson, sir. I work below, but when it's my night-shift Mr. Williams allows me to help him here by day." " Ah ! I remember you now," Mr. Brook said. "Let me see what you are doing. That's 9. creditable piece of work for a working collier, is it not?" he said, holding up a beautifully executed plan. Mr. Hardinge looked with surprise at the draughts- man, a young man of some one or two-and-twenty, wii)h a frank, open, pleasant face. "Why, you don't look or talk like a miner," he said. " Mr. Merton, the schoolmaster here, was kind enough to take a great deal of pains with me, sir." " Have you been doing this sort of work long?" Mr. Hardinge asked, pointing to the plan. " About three or four years," Mr. Brook said promptly. Jack looked immensely surprised. Mr. Brook smiled. " I noticed an extraordinary change in Williams's re- ports, both in the handwriting and expression. Now I understand it You work the same stall as Haden, do you not?" "Yes, sir, but not the same shift; he had a mate he I ! % u 1 224 THE mSPBOtOR SZAHIKEB JACK. has worked with ever since my father was killed, so I work the other shift with Harvey." " Now let us look at the plans of the pit/' Mr. Har- dinge said. The two inspectors bent over the table and examined the plans, asking a question of Mr. Brook now and then. Jack had turned to leave when his employer ceased to speak to him, but Mr. Brook made a motion to him to stay. "What is the size of your furnace, Mr. Brook?" asked Mr. Hardinge. ** It's an eight-foot furnace," Mr. Brook replied. " Do you know how many thousand cubic feet of air a minute you pass?" Mr. Brook shook his head : he left the management of the mine entirely in the hands of his manager. Mr. Hardinge had happened to loois. at Jack as he spoke; and the latter, thinking the question was addressed to him, answered: '* About eight thousand feet a minute, sir." "How do you know?" Mr. Hardinge asked. ** By taking the velocity of the air, sir, and the area of the downcast shaft" "How would you measure the velocity, theoreti- cally?" Mr. Hardinge asked, curious to see how much the young collier knew. " I should require to know the temperature of the shafts respectively, and the height of the upcast shaft." " How could you do it then?" " The formula, sir, is if =*^,i h being the height ^- A SUM IN CUBE ROOT. 225 i| iUed, so 1 Mr. Har- l examined 7 and then, p ceased to i to him to X. Brook?" jplied. Lc feet oi air management nager. Jack as he aestion was . »» :ed. Lnd the area by, theoreti- how much iture of the ipcast shaft. the height of the upcast, t' its temperature, t the temperature of the exterior air, and x=t' — S2- degrees" ** You are a strange young fellow," Mr. Hardinge said. ** May I ask you a question or two?" "Certainly, sir." " Could you work out the cube -root of say 999,888,777?" Jack closed his eyes for a minute and then gave the correct answ*er to five places of decimals. The three gentlemen gave an exclamation of surprise. "How on earth did you do that?" Mr. Hardinge exclaimed. " It would take me ten minutes to work it out on paper." " I accustomed myself to calculate while I was in the dark, or working," Jack said quietly. " Why, you would rival Bidder himself," Mr. Har- dinge said; "and how far have you worked up in ^gures?" "I did the differential calculus, sir, and then Mr. Merton said that I had better stick to the mechanical application^ of mathematics instead of going on any far- ther; that was two years ago." The surprise of the three gentlemen at this simple avowal from a young pitman was unbounded. Then Mr. Hardinge said: "We must talk of this again later on. Now let us go down the pit; this young man will do excellently well for a guide. But I am afraid, Mr. Brook, that I shall have to trouble you a good deal As far as I can see (161) V m ^v 226 A PRAOTIGAL ANSWER. ■ {■.: ! from the plan the mine is very badly laid out, and the ventilation altogether defective. What h your opinion?" he asked, turning abruptly to Jack, and wisliicg to see whetli«r his practical knowledge at all corresponded with his theoretical acquirements. " I would rather not say, sir," Jack said. "It is not for me to express an opinion as to Mr. Thompson's plan." " Let us have your ideas," Mr. Brook said. " Just tell us frankly what you would do if you were manager ofthe Vaughan?" Jack turned to the plan. "I should widen the airways, and split the current; that would raise the number of cubic feet of air to about twelve thousand a minute. It is too far for a single current to travel, especially as the airways are not wide ^ the friction is altogether too great. I should put a split in here, take a current round through the old workings to keep them clear, widen these passages, split the cur- rent again here, and then make a cut through this new ground so as to take a strong current to sweep the face of the main workings, and carry it off straight to the upcast. But that current ought not to pass through the furnace, but be let in above, for the gas comes off very thick sometimes, and might not be diluted enough with air, going straight to the furnaces." "Your ideas are very good," Mr. Hardinge said quietly. "Now we will get into our clothes and go below." So saying, he opened a bag and took out two mining JACK SIMPSONS NEW FRIBND. 227 >inion?" -g to see jsponded 'It is not m's plan." \^ <' Just i nkiinager le current; i,ir to about ;or a single |e not wide i put a split '- ^d workings ' )Ut the cur- rb this new jep the face iight to the [ass through ts comes off ited enough irdinge said Ithes and go two mining suits of clothes, which, first taking off their coats, he and his companion proceeded to put on over their otlier garments Mr. Brook went into his ofHce, and similarly prepared himself; while Jack, who was not dressed for mining, went to the closet where a few suits were hung up for the use of visitors and others, and prepared to go down. Then he went to the lamp-room and fetched four Davy-lamps. While he was away Mr. Brook joined the inspectors. " That yov^g pitman is as steady as he is clever/' he said; " he has come several times under my attention. In the first place, the schoolmaster has spoken to me of the lad's efforts to educate himself. Then he saved another boy's life at the risk of his own, and of late years his steadiness and good conduct have given him a great influence over his comrades of the same age, and have effected great things for the place. The vicar and schoolmaster now are never tired of praising him." " He is clearly an extraordinary young fellow," Mr Hardinge said. "Do you know his suggestions ar4 exactly what I had intended to offer to you myself? You will have some terrible explosion here unless you make some radical change&" That evening the inspectors stayed for the night at Mr. Brook's, and the next day that gentleman went over with them to Birmingham, where be had some business. His principal object, however, was to take them to see Mr. Merton, to question him farther with regard to Jaok Simpson. i] 'in tbe might, len the rorking us and vr, Mr. 1(1 these 3y upon oul. It utended ie letter It was who de- o£ five tell me And did Be. \v)no him'." jd to go rom the safe in But I lad is as to his [ved the 10 w; but pray do not let him imagine that you are Oiware of it He is very young yet, and will rise on his own merits, and would dislike nothing so much as thinking tliat he owed anything to wimt he did that night. I may tell you too tliat he is able to mix as a gentleman with gentlemen Ever since I have been over here he has come over once a month to stay with me from Saturday to Monday, he has mixed with what I may call the best society in the town here, and has won the liking and esteem of all my friends, not one of whom has so much as a suspicion that he is not of the same rank of life ab themselvea" " What am I to do, Mr. Hardinge?" Mr. Brook asked in perplexity. "What would you advise?" " I should give him his first lift at once," Mr. Hardinge said decidedly. " It will be many months before you have carried out the new scheme for the ventilation of the mine; and, believe me, it will not be safe, if there come a sudden influx of gas, till the alterations are made. Make this young fellow deputy viewer, with special charge to look after the ventilation. In that way he will not have to give instruction to the men as to their work, but will confine his attention to the ventilation, the state of the air, the doors, and so on. Even then his position will for a time be difficult; but the lad has plenty of self-control, and will be able to tide over it, and the men will get to see that he really understands his business. You will of course order the underground manager and viewers to give him every m JACK SIMI'SON ItKi'lTY, support. The underground mann^j^er, at any rate, must be perfectly aware of his capabilities, as he seeins to have done all his pai)er work for some time." Never were a body of men more astonished than were the pitmen of tlie Vaughan when t! > t-t X u < at o s H c/) S H < I \ THE DEAD AND DYmO. 237 room, and took his place in the cage with the two volunteers. "I. surely lollows after an explosion and the cessation of ventilation. Many more miners are killed by this choke-damp, as tliey hasten to the bottom of the shaft after an ex- plosion, than by the fire itself. Choke-damp, which is carbonic acid gas, is heavier than ordinary air, and thus the lowest parts of a colliery become first filled with it, as they would with water. In all coal-mines there is a slight, sometimes a considerable, inclination, or "dip" as it is called, of the otherwise flat bed of coal. The shaft is almost always sunk at the lower end of the area owned by the proprietors of the mine, as by this means the whole pit naturally drains to the " sump," or well, at the bottom of the shaft, whence it is pumped up by the engine above; the loaded waggons, too, are run down from the workings to the bottom of the shaft with comparative ease. The explosion had, as Jack well knew, destroyed all the doors which direct the currents of the air, and the ventilation had entirely ceased. The lower part of the mine, where the explosion had been strongest, would soon be filled with choke-damp, the product of the explosion, and Jack was making for the old workings, near the upper boundary line of the pit. There the air would remain pure long after it had been vitiated else- where. It was in this quarter of the mine that Bill Haden and some twenty other colliers worked. Presently Jack saw lights ahead, and heard a clatter- (111 BILL RADEN'S StALL. 241 cessation of ke-damp, as ifter an ex- np, which is j,ir, and thus lied with it, les there is a m, or "dip" f coal. The r end of the le, as by this the " sump," it is pumped jons, too, are ttom of the lestroyed all I air, and the part of the [gest, would luct of the workings, lere the air Itiated else- UU Haden a clatter- ing of steps. It was clear that, as he had hoped, the miners working there had escaped tlie force of tlie ex- plosion, which had, without doubt, played awful havoc in the parts of the mine where the greater part of the men were at work. " Stop ! stop I " Jack shouted, as they came up to him. " Is it fire. Jack ? " Bill Haden, who was one of the first, asked. " Yes, Bill ; didn't you feel it ?" " Some of us thought we felt a suck of air a quarter hour since, but we weren't sure ; and then came an- other, wliicli blew out the lights. Come along, lad ; there is no time for talking." "It's of no use going on," Jack said; "the shaft's choked up. I came down after the first blow, and I fear there's no living soul in the new workinga By this time they must be full of the choke-damp." The men looked at each other with blank facea " Hast seen Brook ? " Jack asked eagerly. *' Ay, he passed our stall with Johnstone ten minutes ago, just before the blast came." " We may catch him in time to stop him yet," Jack said, ** if he has gone round to look at the walling of the old goafs. There are three men at work there." "I'll go with you, Jack," Bill Haden said. "Our best place is my stall, lads," he went on, turning to the others ; " that is pretty well the highest ground in the pit, and the air will keep good there as long as (191) Q ■! S 1 ?' !: I'f 111 pi '.>,■•■■ liiiiaaMMMliad U^ RESCUE OF MR. BROOK. anywhere — may be till help comes. You come along of us, mate," he said, turning to the man who worked with him in his stall. As they hurried along. Jack, in a few words, told what i.c«a taken place, as far as he knew it. Five minutes' run brought them to the place where the masons were at work walling up the entrance to some old workinga They looked astonished at the new- comers. " Have you seen the gaffers?" "Ay, they ha' just gone on. There, don't you see their lights down the heading? No; well I saw 'em a moment since." *' Come a/ong," Jack said. " Quick ! I expect they've met it" At full speed they hurried along. Presently they all stopped short; the lights burnt low, and a choking sensation came on them. ^ " Back, Jack, for your life ! " gasped Bill Haden ; buii at that moment Jack's feet struck something, which he knew was a body. " Down at my feet ; help ! " he cried. He stooped and tried to raise the body. Then the /ast gleam of his light went out — his lungs seemed to cease acting, and he saw no more. When he came to himself again he was being carried on Bill Haden's shoulder. "All right, dad," he said. "I am coming round now; put me down." ilfil'i* fiXPERIENCB DOBS IT. 243 come along fho worked words, told w it. Five I where the ince to some it the new- ion't you see 1 1 saw *em a xpect they've jntly they all id a choking Haden; but Ing, which he Then the Igs seemed to Iheing carried round now ; " That's a good job, Jack. I thought thou'd'st scarce come round again." " Have you got either of the others ? " " We've got Brook ; you'd your arm round him so tight that Ned and I lifted you together. He's on ahead ; the masons are carrying him, and Ned's show- ing the way. Canst walk now ? " " Yes, I'm better now. How did you manage to breathe, dad ? " " We didn't brsathe, Jack ; we're too old hands for that. When we saw you fall we just drew back, took a breath, and then shut our mouths, and went down for you j ust the same as if we'd been a groping for you under water. We got hold of you both, lifted you up, and carried you along as far as we could before we drew a breath again. You're sharp, Jack, but you don't know everything yet." And Bill Haden chuckled to find that for once his practical experience taught him something that Jack had not learned from his books. Jack now hurried along after Bill Haden, and in a few minutes reached the place fixe^ upon. Here the miners were engaged in restoring consciousness to Mr. Brook, who, under the influence of water dashed on his lace and artificial respiration set up by alternately pressing upon the chest and allowing it to rise again, was just beginning to show signs of life. Their interest in their employment was so great that it was not until Mr. Brook was able to sit up that they began to talk about the future. ii fussumati 244 NO ESCAPB. ' -n Jack's account ot the state of things near the shaft was listened to gravely. The fact that the whole of the system of ventilation had been deranged, and the proof given by the recond explosion that the mine was somewhere on fire, needed no comment to these experi- enced men. It sounded their death-knell. Gallant and unceasing as would be the efforts made under any other circumstance to rescue them, the fact that the pit was on fire, and that fresh explosions might at any moment take place, would render it an act oi simple madness for their friends above to endeavour to clear the shaft and headings, and to restore the ventilation. The fact was further impressed upon them by a sudden and simultaneous flicker of the lamps, and a faint shake, followed bv a distant rumble. " Another blast," Bill Haden said. " That settles us, lads. We may as well turn out all the lamps but two, so as to have light as long as we last out." " Is there no hope ? " Mr. Brook asked presently, coming forward after he had heard from Haden's mate the manner in which he had been so far saved. " Not a scrap, master," said Bill Haden. " We are like rats in a trap ; and it would ha' beon kinder of us if we'd a let you lay as you was." " Your intention was equally kind," Mr. Brook said. " But is there nothing that we can do ? " " Nowt," Bill Haden said. " We have got our dinners wi us, and might make 'em last, a mouthful at a time, to keep life in us for a week or more. But what 'ud be ^*i*&. ri Hi A OLEAM OF HOPE. 245 ear the shaft the whole of nged, and the the mine was I these experi- Gallantand ider any other at the pit was it any moment mple madness clear the shaft bion. The fact a sudden and a faint shake, ?hat settles us, lamps but two, [ked presently, Haden's mate saved. len. " We are tn kinder of us [r. Brook said. rot our dinners Ihful at a time, lut what 'ud be th' use of it ? It may be weeks — ay, or months — before they can fetifle the fire and make their way here." " Can you suggest nothing, Jack ? " Mr. Brook asked. " You are the only officer of the pit left now," he added with a faint smile. Jack had not spoken since he reached the stall, but had sat down on a block of coal, with his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands — a favourite attitude of his when thinking deeply. The other colliers had thrown themselves down on the ground ; some sobbed occasionally as they thought of their loved ones above, some lay in silence. Jack answered the appeal by rising to his feet ** Yes, sir, I think we may do something." The men raised themselves in surprise. "In the first place, sir, I should send men in each direction to see how near the choke-damp has got. There are four roads by which it could come up. I would shut the doors on this side of the place it has got to, roll blocks of coal and rubbish to keep 'em tight, and stop up the chinks with wet mud. That will keep the gas from coming up, and there is air enough in the stalls and headings to last us a long time." " But that would only prolong our lives for a few hours. Jack, and I don't know that that would be any advantage. Better to be choked by the gas than to die of starvation," Mr. Brook said, and a murmur from the men sliowed that they agreed with him. "I vote for lighting our pipes," one of the miners i'^' : il I I- i ii rtV i Dfiiii i Tlrryiir 246 THE ONLY WAY OUT. said. '* If there is fiery gas here, it would be better to finish with it at once." There was a general expression of approval " Wait 1" Jack said authoritatively ; "wait till I have done. You know, Mr. Brook, we are close to our north boundary here, in some places within a very few yarda Now the 'Logan,' which lies next to us, has been worked out years ago. Of course it is full of water, and it was from fear of tapping that waf^r that the works were stopped here. A good deal comes in through the crevices in No. 15 stall, which I expect is nearest to it. Now if we could work into the ' Logan,* the water would rush down into our workings, and as our pit is a good deal bigger than the ' Logan ' ever was it will fill the lower woikings and put out the fire, but won't reach here. Tiien we can get up through the * Logan,' where the air is sure to be all riglit, as the water will bring good air down with it We may not do it in time, but it is a chance. What do you say, sir?" " It is worth trying, at any rate," Mr. Brook said. " Bravo, my lad ! your clear head may save us yet" " By gum, Jack! but you're a good un!" Bill Haden said, bringing down his hand upon Jack's shoulder with a force that almost knocked him down; while the men, with revived hope, leaped to their feet, and crowding round, shook Jack's hands with exclamations of approval and delight. • . " Now, lads," Mr. Brook said, " Jack Simpson is PRATER AND WORK. 347 master now, and we will all work under his orders. But before we begin, boys, let us say a prayer. We are in God's hands ; let us ask his protection." Every head was bared, and the men stood reverently while, in a few words, Mr. Brook prayed for strength and protection, ajid rescue from their danger. "Now, Jack," he said, when he had finished, "give your orders." Jack at once sent off two men along each of the roads to find how near the choke-damp had approached, and to block up and seal the doors. It was necessary to strike a light to relight some of the lamps, but this was a danger that could not be avoided. The rest of the men were sent round to all the places where work had been going on to bring in tlie tools and dinners to No. 15 stall, to which Jack himself, Bill Haden, and Mr. Brook proceeded at once. No work had been done tiiere for years. The floor was covered with a black mud, and a close examination of the face showed tiny streamlets of water trickling down in sev- eral places. An examination of the stalls, or working places, on either side, showed similar appearances, but in a less marked degree. It was therefore determined to begin work in No. 15. "You don't mean to use powder, Jack?" Bill Haden asked. "No, dcA; without any ventilation we should be choked with the smoke, and there would be the danger from the gas. When we think we are getting near ] 248 FOR LIFE OR DEATH t the water we will put in a big shot, so as to blow in the face." When the men returned with the tools and the din- ners, the latter done up in handkerchiefs. Jack asked Mr. Brook to take charge of the food. " There are just twenty of us, sir, without you, and nineteen dinners. So if you divide among us four din- ners a day, it will last for five days, and by that time I hope we shall be free." Four men only could work at the face of the stall together, and Jack divided the twenty into five sets. *' We will work in quarter-of-an-hour shifts at first," he said ; " that will give an hour's rest to a quarter of an hour's work, and a man can work well, we know, for a quarter of an hour. When we get done up, we will have half-hour shifts, which will give two hours for a sleep in between." The men of the first shift, stripped as usual to the waist, set to work without an instant's delay ; and the vigour and swiftness with whibh the blows fell upon the face of the rock would have told experienced miners that the men who struck them were working for life or death. Those unemployed, Jack took into the adjacent stalls and set them to work to clear a narrow strip of the floor next to the upper wall, then to cut a little groove in the rocky floor to intercept the water as it slowly trickled in, and lead it to small hollows which they were to make in the solid rock. The water coming through the two stalls would, thus collected, be ample for their SHORT RATIONS. 2tO I to blow in md the din- Jack asked 3ut you, and us four din- T that time I I of the stall io five sets, lifts at first," ) a quarter of we know, for 3 up, we will > hours for a . to the waist, id the vigour apon the face miners that I life or death, int stalls and Ihe floor next move in the Iwly trickled ley were to I through the Lie for their wants. Jack then staHed to see how the men at work at the doors were getting on. These had already nearly finished their tasks. On the roac^ leading to the main workings choke-damp had been met with at a distance of fifty yards from the stall ; but upon the upper road it was several hundred yards before it was found. On the other two roads it was over a hundred yards. The men had torn strips off their flannel jackets and had thrust them into the crevices of the doors, and had then plastered mud from the roadway on thickly, and there was no reason to fear any irruption of choke-damp, un- less, indeed, an explosion should take place so violent as to blow in the doors. This, however, was unlikely, as, with a fire burning, the gas would ignit,e as it came out; and although there might be many minor exp!o sions, there would scarcely be one so serious as the first two which had taken place. The work at the doors and the water being over, the men all gathered in the stall. Then Jack insisted on an equal division of the tobacco, of which almost all the miners possessed some — for colliers, forbidden to smoke, often chew tobacco, and the tobacco might therefore be regarded both as a luxury, and as being very valu- able in assisting the men to keep down the pangs of hunger. This had to be divided only into twenty shares, as Mr. Brook said that he could not use it in that way, and that he had, moreover, a couple of cigars in his pocket, which he could suck if hard driven to it ■ Now that they were together again, all the lamps i. I 260 BIAKINQ HEADWAY. I i ..'■i #." fi were extinguished save the two required by the men employed. With work to be don- . and a hope of ulti- mate release, the men's sp:*. its ro.v and between their spells they talked, and now and then even a laugh was heard. Mr. Brook, although unable (;0 do a share of the work, was very valuable in aiding to keep up their spirits, by his hopeful talk, and by anecdotes of people who had been in great danger in many ways in dif- ferent parts of the world, but who had finally escaped. Sometimes one or other of the men would propose a hymn — ^for among miners, as among sailors, there is at heart a deep religious feeling, consequent upon a life which may at any moment be cut short — and then their deep voices would rise together, while the blows of the sledges and picks would keep time to the swing of the tune. On the advice of Mr. Brook the men divided their portions of food, small as they were, into two pai-ts, to be eaten twelve hours apart; for as the work would proceed without interruption night and day, it was belter to eat, however little, every twelve hours, than to go twenty-four without food. The first twenty-four hours over, the stall — or rather the heading, for it was now driven as narrow as it was possible for four men to work simultaneously — had greatly advanced; indeed it would have been diflBcult even for a miner to believe that so much work had been done in the time. There was, however, no change in the appearances; the water still trickled in, but they could 1 THE FOURTH D.*.T. 251 not perceive that it came faster than before. As fast as the coal fell — for fortunately the s m was over four feet thick, so that they did not ha^^ r,o work upon the rock — it was removed by tlie set of men who were next for work, so that there was not a minute lost from this cause. During the next twenty-four hours almost as much work was done as during the first ; but upon tlie third there was a decided falling off. The scanty food was telling upon the' ».^^. The shifts were lengthened to an hour to allow ^»ng time for sleep between each spell of work, ano ea ih bet of men, when relieved, threw themselves dow. exhausted, and slept for three hours, until it was 'eir turn to wake up and remove the coal as the set at w^ork got it down. At the end of seventy -two hours the water was coming through the face much faster than at first, and the old miners, accustomed to judge by sound, were of opinion that the wall in front sounded less solid, and that they were approaching the old workings of the Logan pit. In the three days and nights they had driven the heading nearly fifteen yards from the point where they had begun. Upon the fourth day they worked cautiously, driving a borer three feet ahead of them into the coal, as in case of the water bursting through suddenly they would be all drowned. At the end of ninety hours from the time of striking the first blow the drill which, Jack holding it. Bill Haden was just driving in deeper with a sledge, sud- \m ■■rt,:x»'PT' I'K ( 262 THE WATER IS REACHED. denly went forward, and as suddenly flew out as if shot from a gun, followed by a jet of water driven with tre- mendous force. A plug, which had been prepared in readiness, was with difficulty driven into the hole; two men who had been knocked down by the force of the water were picked up, much bruised and hurt; and with thankful hearts that the end of their labour was at hand all prepared for the last and most critical por- tiou of their task. I I I it as if shot ft with tre- irepared in e hole; two brce of the hurt; and lahour was critical por- CHAPTER XXVI A CRITICAL MOMENT. ^FTER an earnest thanksgiving by Mr. Brook for their success thus far, the whole party partook of what was a heartier meal than usual, consisting of the whole of tlie remain- ing food. Then choosing the largest of the drills, a hole was driven in the coal two feet in depth, and in this an unuaually heavy charge was placed. " We're done for after all," Bill Haden suddenly ex- claimed. " Look at the lamp." Every one present felt his heart sink at what he saw. A light flame seemed to fill the whole interior of the lamp. To strike a match to light the fuse would be to cause an instant explosion of the gas. The place where they were working being the highest part of the mine, the fiery gas, which made its way out of the coal at all points above the closed doors, had, being lighter than air, mounted tliere. " Put the lamps out," Jack said quickly, " the gauze is neariy red hot." In a moment they were in dark- nesa t ; if 354 TBI POST or DANOBR. >!l!i J I' "What is to be done now?" Mr. Brook asked after a pause. There was silence for a while — the case seemed desperate. " Mr. Brook," Jack said after a time, " it is agreed, is it not, that all here will obey my orders?" "Yes, certainly. Jack," Mr. Brook answered. "Whatever they are?" " Yes, whatever they are." "Very well," Jack said, "you will all take your coats off and soak them in water, then all set to work to beat the gas out of this heading as far as possible. When that is done as far as can be done, all go into the next stall, and lie down at the upper end, you will be out of the way of the explosion there. Cover your heads with y our wet coats, and. Bill, wrap something wet round those cans of powdor." "What then. Jack?" "That's all," Jack said; "I will fire the train. If the gas explodes at the match it will light the fuse, so that the wall will blow in anyhow." " No, no," a chorus of voices said; "you will be killed." "I will light it. Jack," Bill Haden said; "I am getting on now, it's no great odds about me." " No, Dad," Jack said, " I am in charge, and it is for me to do it. You have all promised to obey orders, so set about it at once. Bill, take Mr. Brook up first into the other stall ; he won't be able to find his way about in the dark." • liii JAOB. FTRES THE TRAIN. 260 : asked after ease seemed ' it is agreed, »?" rered. Jl take your 11 set to work ir as possible, fill go into the i, you will be Cover your -ap something bhe train. If lit the fuse, so ill be killed." said; "I am le. }$ and it is for )ey or-^ers, so up first into way about Without a word Bill did as he was told, Mr. Brook giving one hearty squeeze to the lad's hand as he was led away. Tlie others, accustomed to the darkness from boyhood, proceeded at once to carry out Jack's instructions, wetting their flannel jackets and then beating the roof witli them towards the entrance to the stall; for five minutes they continued tliis, and then Jack said: "Now, lads, off to the stall as quick as you can; cover your heads well over; lie down. I will be with you in a minute, or — " or, as Jack knew well, he would be dashed to pieces by the explosion of the gas, He listened until the sound of the hist footstep died away — waited a couple of minutes, to allow them to^ get safely in position at the other end of the next stall — and then, holding the end of the fuse in one hand and the match in the other, he murmured a prayer, and, stooping to the ground, struck the match. No explosion followed ; he applied it to the fuse, and ran for his life, down the narrow heading, down the stall, along the horse road, and up the next stall. " It's alight," he said as he rushed in. A cheer of congratulation and gladness burst from the men. ** Cover your heads close," Jack said as he threw himself down ; " the explosion is nigh sure to fire the gas." For a minute a silence as of death reigned in the mine; then there was k sharp cracking explosion, followed — or rather, prolonged — by another like thun J^H'BWXHBW'TSA . ^'li i i,\-^ 256 to THS tOOAN Pit. der, and, while a flash of Are seemed to surround then, filling the air, firing their clothes, and scorching their limbs, the whole mine shook with a deep continuous roaring. The men knew that the danger was at an end, threw off the covering from their heads, and struck out the fire from their garments. Some were badly burned about the legs, but any word or cry they may have uttered was drowned in the tremendous roar which continued. It was the water from the Logan pit rushing into the Vn-ughan. For five minutes the noise was like thunder, then, as the pressure from behind decreased, the sound gradually diminished, until, in another five minutes, all was quiet. Then the party rose to their feet The air in the next stall was clear and fresh, for as the Logan pit had emptied of water, fresh air had of course come down from the sur- face to take its place. " We can light our lamps again safely now," Bill Haden said. " We shall want our tools, lads, and the powder; there maybe some heavy falls in our way, and we may have hard work yet before we get to the shaft, but the roof rock is strong, so I believe we shall win our way." " It lies to our right," Jack said. " Like our own, it is at the lower end of the pit, so, as long as we don't mount, we are going right for it." There were, as Haden had anticipated, many heavy falls of the roof, but the water had swept passages in them, and it was found easier to get along than the A SIGNAL FOR HEL^. 257 rround them, orching their jp continuous er was at an ds, and struck lc were badly cry they may jmendous roar om the Logan re minutes the pressure from ly diminished, uiet. Then the p next stall was lad emptied of n from the sur- fely now," Bill s, lads, and the [Is in our way, we get to the )elieve we shall I* Like our own, m ;1 1 «*-. ... ,1 "[ i*i>|iiiiijl»id< M r h A : I'i 263 THE MINE SHUT UP. determination is arrived at, there was & cry of grief and anger throughout the village, and all who had friends below protested that it would be nothing short of murder to cut off the supply of air. Women went down to the inn where the meeting was held, and raved like wild creatures; but the miners of the district could not but own the step was necessary, for that the only chance to extinguish the fire was by cutting off the air, unless the dreadful alternative of drowning the pit was resorted to. In the morning the smoke still curled up, and the pit's mouth was closed. Boards were placed over both the shafts, and earth was heaped upon them, so as to cut off altogether the supply of air, and so stifle the fire. This was on Thursday morning. Nothing was done on Friday; and on Saturday afternoon the mining authorities met again in council There were experts there now from all parts of the kingdom — for the extent of the catastrophe had sent a thrill of horror through the land. It was agreed that the earth and staging should be removed next morning early, and that if smoke still came up, water should be turned in from the canal. At six in the morning a number of the leading authorities met at the mine. Men had during the night removed the greater part of the earth, and the rest was now taken off, and the planks withdrawn. At once a volume of smoke poured out This was in any case •xpieeted; and it was not for another half-hour, when of grief who had ing short nen went Liid raved rict could the only ff the air, le pit was i, and the over both i, so as to le the fire, was done te mining re experts he extent r through staging d that if i in from leading the eight rest was A.t once a any case )ur, when "WHAT CAN HAVE HAPPENED 1" 363 the accumulated smoke had cleared off, and a straight but unbroken column began to rise as before, that the conviction that the pit was still on fire seized all present. " I fear that there is no alternative," Mr. Hardinge said; "the pit must be flooded." There was not a dissentient voice; and the party moved towards the canal to see what would be the best method of letting in the water, wh,n a cry from the men standing round caused them to turn, and they saw a dense white column rise from the shaft. " Steam ! " every one cried in astonisliment. A low rumbling sound came fiom the pit. " What can have happened? " Mr. Hardinge exclaimed, in surpr-stv "This is most extraordinary!" All crowded round the pit mouth, and could dis- tinctly hear a distant roaring sound. Presently this died away. Gradually the steam ceased to rise, and the air above the pit mouth was clear. "There is no smoke rising," one of the inspectors said. "What on earth can have happened? Let u& lower a light down." Hoisting gear and rope bad been prepared on the first day, in case it shoald be necessary to lov^er any one, lor the wire rope had snapped when the attempt had been made to draw up the cage after the second explosion, and the sudden release from the strain bad caused the engine to fly round, breaking some gear, and for the time disabling it from further work. A ] ; 1 '•'4i)te«£>.V'^ittk ■l in i nnt i wn mmmm 264 THB OANDLB TELU3 A TALB. hundred and forty fathoms of rope, the depth of the shaft being a hundred and twenty, had been prepared, and was in readiness to be passed over a pulley sus- pended above the shaft A lighted candle in a candle- stick was placed on a sort of tray, which was fastened to the rope, and then it was lowered gradually down. Eagerly those above watched it as it descended — down — down, till it became a mere speck below. Then it suddenly disappeared. " Stop," Mr. Hardinge, who was directing the opera- tions, said. " There are six more fathoms yet, sir — nigh seven — before it gets to the hundred-and- twenty fathom mark." " Draw up carefully, lads. What can have put the light out forty feet from the bottom of the shaft? Choke-damp, I suppose; but it's very singular." When the candle came up to the surface there was a cry of astonishment ; the tray and the candle were wet ! The whole of those present were astounded, and Mr. Hardinge at once determined to descend himself and verify this extraordinary occurrence. There was no fear of an e ^plosion now. Taking a miner's lamp, he took his seat in a sling, and was lowered down. Just before the rop3 had run out to the point at which the light was extinguished he gave the signal to stop by jerking a thin rope which he held in his hands. There was a pause, and in a minute or two came two jerks, the signal to haul up. "It is so," he said, when he gained the surface; )th of the I prepared, pulley 8U8- a a candle- js fastened lally down, ied — down r. Then it r the opera- igh seven — horn mark." , ive put the the shaft? ar." ihere was a Q were wet ! ed, and Mr. limself and lere was no er's lamp, he iown. Just \i which the to stop by sinds. wo came two the surface; ANOTHER EFFORT. 265 " there are forty feet of water in the shaft, but where it cfunc from is more tlian I can tell." Much astonished at this singular occurrence, the group of mining engineers walked back to breakfast at Stokebridge, where the population were greatly excited at the news that the pit was Hooded. To the miners it was a subject of the greatest surprise, while the friendrt of those in the pit received the news as the death-blow of tbeir last hopes. It was now impossible that any one could be alive in the pit. At ten o'clock the mining authorities went again to discuss the curious phenomenon. All agreed that it was out of the question that so large a quantity of water had accumulated in any old workings, for the plan of the pit had been repeatedly inspected by them all Some inclined to the belief that there must have been some iaimense natural cavern above the workings, and that when the fire in the pit burned away the pillars left to support the roof, this must have fallen in, and let the water in the cavern into the mine ; others pointed out that there was no example whatever of a cavern of such dimensions as this must have be'^n, being found in the coal formation, and pointed to the worked-out Logan pit, which was known to be full of water, as the probable source of supply. During the previous four days the plan had been dis- cussed of cutting through from the Logan, which was known to have been worked nearly up to the Vaughan boundary. This would enable them to enter the pit and ■ I 266 AT THE M0X7TH 0¥ THE LOGAN SHATr. rescue AAy miners who might be alive, but the fact that to erect pumping gear and get out the water would be an affair of many weeks, if not months, had caused the idea to be abandoned as soon as broached. To those who argued that the water had come from the L )gan, it was pointed out that there were certainly several yards of solid coal between the Vaiighan and the Logan still standing, and that as the force of the explosion was evidently near the Vaughan shaft it was incredible that this barrier between the pits should have been shattered. However, it was decided to solve the question one way or the other by an immediate visit to the top of the old Logan shaft. They were just starting when they heard a move- ment in the street, and men setting off to run. A moment later a miner entered the room hurriedly. " Ther^ be a big smoke coming up from the old Logan shaft ; it be too light for coal smoke, and I don't think it bo steam either." With exclamations of surprise the whole party seized their hats and hurried off. It was twenty minutes' sharp walking to the shaft, where, by the time they reached it, a large crowd of miners and others were already assembled. As they approached, eager men ran forward to meet them. " It be gunpowder smoke, sir 1 " There was indeed no mistaking the sulpnurous smelL "It's one of two things," Mr. Hardinge said; "either the fire has spread to the upper workings, some powder <«^«**^ HTT, A MURMUR FROM BELOW. 267 but the fact it the water months, had as broached, ome from the ere certainly ^aughan and i force of the 1 shaft it was J pits should cided to solve m immediate eard a move- f to run. A >m hurriedly, he old Logan I don't think 3 party seized (nty minutes' le time they others were ager men ran •nurous smelL said; "either some powder bags have exploded, and the shock has brought down the dividing wall, in which case the powder smoke might possibly find its way out when the water from the Logan drained in; or else, in some miraculous way some of the men have made their escape, and are letting off powder to call our attention. At any rate let us drop a small stone or two down. If any one be below he will know he is noticed." Then he turned to the miners standing round: "I want the pulley and rope that we were using at the Vaughan, and that small cage that was put together to work with it I want two or three strong poles, to form a tripod over the pit here, and a few long planks to make a stage." Fifty willing men hurried off to fetch the required materials. " The smoke is getting thinner, a good deal," one of the managers said. "Now .f you'll hold me, I will give a shout down." The mouth of the pit was surrounded by a wooden fencing, to prevent any one from faUing down it. The speaker got over this and lay down on his face, working nearer to the edge, which sloped dangerously down, while others, following in the same way, held his legs, and were in their turn held by others. When his head and shoulders were fairly over the pit he gave a loud shout. There was a death-like silence on the part of the crowd standing round, and all of those close could hear a faint murmur come from below. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 1.1 11.25 £f 1^ 110 1.4 1.6 ^ PhotograiJiic Sciences Corporalion >^^ ^ 33 VVKT MAIN STIKT WIKTIR,N.Y. MSM (71«)t73-4S03 <;^>^ V K^ 4^ ^ ..i.jm^iSMa m I 268 WILLIN^:^ HANDS. Then arose a cheer, echoed again and again, and then half-a-dozen fleet-footed boys started for Stokebridge with the news that some of the imprisoned pitmen were still alive. Mr. Hardinge wrote on a piece of paper, " Keep up your courage; in an hour's time the cage will come down;" wrapped it round a stone, and dropped it down. A messenger was despatched to the Vaughan, for the police force stationed there to come up at once to keep back the excited crowd, and with, orders that the stretchers and blankets in readiness should be brought on ; while another went into Stokebridge for a surgeon, and for a supply of wine, brandy, and food, and two or three vehicles. No sooner were the men sent off than Mr. Hardinge said, in a loud tone : " Every moment must be of consequence ; they must be starving. Will any one here who has food give it for them?" The word was passed through the crowd, and a score of picnic baskets were at once offered. Filling one oi them full wit*i sandwiches from the rest, Mr. Hardinge tied the lid securely on, and threw it down the shaft " There is no fear of their standing under the shaft," he said; "they will know we shall be working here, and that stones might falL" In less than an hour, thanks to the willing work of many hands, a platform was constructed across the mouth of the Logan shaft, and a tripod of strong poles fixed in its place. The police kept the crowd, by this JANE HAOEN DARES NOT HOPE. 269 time very many thousands strong, back in a wide circle round the shaft, none being allowed inside save those who had near relatives in the Vauglian. These were for the most part women, who had rushed wildly up without bonnets or shawls — just as they stood when the report reached them that there were yet some survivors of the explosion. At full speed they had hurried along the road — some pale and still despaiiing, refusing to allow hope to rise again, bu\. unable to stay away from the fatal pit ; others crying as they ran j some even laughing in hysterical excitement Most excited, because most hopeful, were those whose hus- bands had stalls in the old workings, for it had from the first been believed that while all in the main work- ings were probably killed at once by the first explosion, those in the old workings might have survived for days. Jane Haden walked steadily along the road, accom- panied by Harry Shepherd, who had brought her the news, and by Nelly Hardy. " I will go," she said, " but it is of no use ; they are both gone, and I shall never see them again." Then she had put on her bonnet and shawl, deliber- ately and slowly, and had started at her ordinary pace, protesting all along against its being supposed that she entertained the slightest hope ; but wiien she neared the spot, her quivering lips and twitching fingers belied her words. Nelly remained outside the crowd, but Harry made a way for Jane Haden through ike outside circle of spectatora II m 270 CHXEIUI AND TEARS. A smaller circle, of some thirty yards in diameter, was kept round the shaft, and within this only those directing the operations were allowed to enter. Mr. Hardinge and one of the local managers took their places in the cage. The rope was held by twenty men, who at first stood at its full length from the shaft, and then advanced at a walk towards it, thus allowing the cage to descend steadily and easily, without jerks. As they came close to the shaft the signal rope was shaken ; another step or two, slowly and carefully taken, and the rope was seen to sway slightly. The cage was at the bottom of the shaft. Three minutes' pause, the signal rope shook, and (he men with the end of the rope, started again to walk from the shaft As they increased their distance, the exciterneni in the great crowd grew ; and when the cage showed above the surface, and it was seen that it contained three miners, a hoarse cheer arose. The men were assisted from the cage, and surrounded for a moment by those in authority ; and one of the head men raised his hand for silence, and then shouted : "Mr. Brook and twenty others are saved!'* An announcement which was received with another and even more hearty cheer. Passing on, the rescued men moved forward to where the women stood, anxiously gazing. Blackened as they were with coal-dust, they were recognizable, and with wild screams of joy three women burst from the rest and threw themselves in their arms. But only foe /' 3 in diameter, his only those to enter. Mr. ers took their y twenty men, the shaft, and IS allowing the lout jerks. As pe was shaken ; taken, and the ftge was at the ause, the signal id of the rope, J exciteineni in ;e showed above sontained three n were assisted oment by those raised his hand 3 saved!" An ;h another and [rward to where Blackened as [cognizable, and 1 burst from the But only for Q u > < TWENTY SAVED. 271 a m<^ent could they indulge in this burst of happiness, for the other women crowded round. "Who is alive? For God's sake tell us] who is aUve?" Then one by one the names were told, each greeted with cries of joy, till the last name was spoken ; and then came a burst of wailing and lamentation from those who had listened in vain for the names of those they loved Jane Haden had not risen from the seat she had taken on a block of broken brickw ork. "No, no!" she said to Harry; "I will not hope I I will not hope!" and while Harry moved closer to the group, to hear the names of the saved, she sat with her face buried in her hands. The very firat names given were those of Jack Simp- son and Bill Haden, and with a shout of joy he rushed back. The step told its tale, and Jane Haden looked up, rose as if with a hidden spring, and looked at him. ** Both saved!" he exclaimed; and with a strange qry Jane Haden swayed, and fell insensible. An hour later, and the last survivor of those who were below in the Vaughan pit stood on the surface, the last cage load being Mr. Brook, Jack Simpson, and Mr. Hardinga By this time the mourners had left the scene, and there was nothing to check the delight felt at the recovery from the tomb, as it was considered, of so many of those deemed lost When Mr. Brook — who was a popular employer, and y ; I'- J* I 1 272 A W£LL-EARNED REWAIUX whose popularity was now increased by his having, although involuntarily, shared the dangers of his men — stepped from the cage, the enthusiasm was tre- mendous. The crowd broke the cordon of police and rushed forward, cheering loudly. Mr. Hardinge, after a minute or two, held up his hand for silence, and helped Mr. £rook on to a heap of stones. Although Mr. Brook, as well as the rest, had already recovered much, thanks to the basket of food thrown down to them, and to the supply of weak brandy and water, and of soup, which those who had first descended had carried with them, he was yet so weakened by his long fast that he was unable to speak. He could only wave his hand in token of his thanks, and sobs of emotion choked his words. Mr. Hardinge, however, who had, during the hour below, learned all that had taken place, and had spoken for some time apart with Mr. Brook, now stood up beside him. " My friends," he said, in a loud clear voice, which was heard over the whole crowd, " Mr. Brook is too much shaken by what he has gone through to speak, but he desires me to thank you most heartily in his name for your kind greeting. He wishes to say that, under God, his life, and the lives of those with him, have been saved by the skill, courage, and science of his under- viewer. Jack Simpson. Mr. Brook has consulted me on the subject, and I thoroughly agree with what he intends to do, and can certify to Jack Simpson's ability, young as he is, to fill any post to which he iAOti 0IVB8 WAY. d7d his having, J of his men jm was tre- )n of police r. Hardinge, r silence, and s. Although idy recovered )wn down to y and water, escended had jd by his long lid only wave ^8 of emotion er, who had, taken place, ,h Mr. Brook, voice, which Brook is too igh to speak, lieartily in his Is to say that, )se with him, science of his has consulted [ee with what ck Simpson's to which he may be appointed. In a short time I hope that the Vaughan pit will be pumped out and at work again, and when it is, Mr. Jack Simpson will be its manager!" The story of the escape from death had already been told briefly by the miners as they came to the surface, and had passed from mouth to mouth among the crowd, and Mr. Hardinge's announcement was greeted with a storm of enthusiasm. Jack was seized by a score of sturdy pitmen, and would have been carried in triumph, were it not that the startling announcement, coming after such a long and intense strain, proved too much for him, and he fainted in the arms of his admirera vi«) f ■' -*»«■»- ttou.. CHAPTER XXVIIl, CHANGES. ,!;li : ^EYOND the body of the crowd, outside the ring kept by the police, stood Nelly Hardy, watching, without a vestige of colour in her face, for the news from below. She had given a gasping sigh of relief as the names, passed from mouth to mouth by the crowd, met her ear, and had leaned for support against the wall behind her. So great was her faith in Jack's resources and in Jack's destiny that she had all along hoped, and the assertion that those who had first gone down to rescue the pit- men must have fallen victims to the second explosion had fallen dead upon her ears. The school had been closed from the date of the accident, and had it not been so, she felt that she could not have performed her duties. Hour after hour she had sat in her cottage alone — for her mother had died a year before — except when Mrs. Dodgson, who had long suspected her secret, came to ait awhile with her, or Harry brought the latest news. During this time she had not shed a tear, and, save for her white face and i NKLLY hardy's JOY. 270 a, outside the Nelly Hardy, ,f colour in ber low. She bad ies, passed from jr ear, and had jhind her. So and in JacV* id the assertion rescue the pit- [econd explosion the date of the lit that she could [fter hour she had Lher had died a [on. who had long (hile with her. or ling this time she er white face and hard unnatural voice, none could have told how she suffered. Harry had brouglit her the news of the smoke being seen from the shaft of the Logan pit before he carried it to Mrs. Haden, and she had at once thrown on her bonnet and jacket and joined them as they started from the village. When she reached the pit slie had not attempted to approach, but had taken her place at a distance. Several of her pupils, with whom she was a great favourite, had come up to speak to her, but her hoarse, "Not now, dear; please go away," had sufficed to send them off. But deeply agitated as she was, she was hopeful; and deep as was her joy at the news of Jack's safety she was hardly surprised. Dropping her veil to hide the tears of joy which streamed down lier cheeks, she turned to go home; but she was more shaken . than she had thought, and she had to grasp at the wall for support. So she waited until the last of the miners arrived at the surface, and heard the speech of the government inspector. Then when she heard Jack's elevation an- nounced, the news shook her even more than that of his safety had done, and she fainted. When she recovered the crowd was gone, and Harry only stood beside her, He had felt that she would rather stand and watch alone, and had avoided going near her, but when Jack was driven oft' he had hastened to her side. He knew how she would object to her emotion becoming known, and had contented himself with lifting her veil, un- tying her bonnet strings, putting her in a sitting atti- r- I |!i!!l n;" I I'll FAITHFUL FRIENDS. tude against the wall, and waiting patiently till she came round. "Are you better now?" he inquired anxiously when she opened her eyes. "Yes, I am well now," she said, glancing hastily round to see if others besides himself had noticed her situation ; " I am quite well." " Don't try to get up; sit still a few minutes longer," he said. " Dont try to talk." " He has got his rise at last," she said, smiling faintly and looking up ; "he has gone right away from us at a bound." " I am glad," Harry said simply. "He has earned it He is a grand, a glorious fellow, is Jack. Of course I shall never be to him now what I have been, but I know that he will be as true a friend as ever, though I may not see so much of him." " You are more unselfish than I, Harry ; but as he was to rise, it was better that it should be at a bound far above me. Now I am better; let me go home." Jack Simpson's fainting fit had been but of short duration. His stuidy organization soon recovered from the shock whicb the fresh air and Mr. Hardinge's announcement had made upon a frame exhausted \,f T was not until the pit was cleared of water and about to go to work again, that the question of Bill Haden and his wife re- moving from their cottage came forward for decision. Jack had been staying with Mr. Brook, who had ordered that the house in which the late manager had lived should be put in good order and furnished from top to bottom, and had arranged for his widow and children to remove at once to friends living at a distance. Feeling as he did that he owed his life to the young man, he was eager to do everything in his power to promote his comfort and prosperity, and as he was, apart from the colliery, a wealthy man and a bachelor, he did not care to what expense he went. The house, "the great house on the hill," as Jack had described it when speaking to his artist friend Pastor years before, was a far larger and more in> portant building than the houses of managers of mines in general It had, indeed, been originally the residence of a fiamily owning a good deal of land in the neigh- (la) ? d90 JACK doesn't FOROIT. w m bourhood, but they, when coal was discovered and work began, sold this property and went to live in liOndon, and as none cared to take a house so close to the coal-pits and village of Stokebridge, it was sold for a nominal sum to the owner of the Vaughan, and was by him used as a residence for his manager. Now, with the garden nicely laid out, redecorated and repaired outside and in, and handsomely furnished, it resumed its former appearance of a gentleman's country seat. Mr. Brook begged Jack as a favour not to go near the house until the place was put in order, and although the young man heard that a Birmingham contractor had taken it in hand, and that a large number of men were at work there, he had no idea of the ex- tensive changes which were taking place. A few days before work began again at the Vaughan Jack went down as usual to the Hadens', for he had looked in every day to say a few words to them on his way back from the pit-mouth. " Now, dad," he said, " we must not put the matter off any longer. I am to go into the manager's house in a fortnight's time. I hear they have been painting and cleaning it up, and >Ir. Brook tells me he has put new furniture in, and that I shall only have to go in and hang up my hat. Now I want for you to arrange to come up on the same day." " We ha' been talking the matter over in every mortal way, the old woman and me. Jack, and I'll tell 'ee what we've aboot concluded. On one side thou refUly wan't t' have us oop wi* 'ee." dad's "aroimbnt." 291 overed wad b to live in e BO close to was sold for lan, and was p. redecorated ely furnished, , gentleman's J a favour not put in order, I Birmingham i large number Idea of the ex- tttheVaughan is', for he had ito them on his I dad," he said, Inger. I am to " Yes, indeed, dad," Jac) jaid earnestly. " I know thou dost, lad ; me and Jane both feels that Well that's an argiment that way. Then there's tlie argimeni that naturally thou would'st not like the man who hast brought thee oop to be working in the pit o' which thou wast manager. That's two reasons that way; on the other side there be two, and the old 'oomau and me think they are stronger than t'others. First, we should be out o' place at the house oop there. Thou wilt be getting to know all kinds o' people, and whatever tliou may'st say, Jack, your mother and me would be oot o' place. That's one argiment. The next argiment is that we shouldn't like it, Jack, we should feel we were out o' place and that our ways were out o' place; and we should be joost miserable. Instead o' doing us a kindness you'd joost make our lives a burden, and I know 'ee don't want to do that. We's getting on in loife and be too old to change our ways, and nothing thou could'st say could persuade us to live a'ways dressed up in our Sunday clothes in your house." " Well, dad, I might put you both in a comfortable cottage, without work to do." "What should 1 do wi'out my work. Jack? noa, lad, I must work as long as I can, or I should die o* pure idleness. But I needn't work at a stall. I'm fifty now, and although I ha* got another fifteen years' work in me, I hope, my bones bean't as liss as they was Thou might give me the job as underground viewer. I can put in a prop or see to the firing o' a shot wi' any -f: 1 il * 1 j i Ipl hi 3 1' i ■;' 1 ifti; HI! I 292 A FAIR BARGAIN. man. Oi've told my mates you want to have me and the old woman oop at th' house, and they'll know that if I stop underground it be o' my own choice. I know, lad, it wouldn't be roight for me to be a getting droonk at the "Chequers" and thou manager; but 1 ha' told t* old 'ooman that I will swear oft* liquor alto- gether." "No, no, dad!" Jack said, affected at this proof of Bill Haden's desire to do what he could towards main- taining his dignity. " I wouldn't think o't. If you and mother feel that you'd be more happy and com- fortable here — and maybe you are right, I didn't think over the matter from thy side as well as my own, as I ought to have done — of course you shall stay here ; and, of course, you shall have a berth as under- viewer. As for swearing off" drink altogether, I wouldn't ask it of you, though 1 do wish you could resolve never to drink too much again. You ha' been used to go to the " Chequers " every night for nigh forty years, and you couldn't give it up now. You would pine away without somewhere to go to. However, this must be understood, whenever you like to come up to me I shall be glad to see you, and I shall expect you on Sundays to dinner if on no other day ; and whenever the time shall come when you feel, dad, that you'd rather give up work, there will be a cottage for you and mother somewhere handy to me, and enough to live comfortably and free from care." *' That's a bargain, lad, and I'm roight glad it be oft" iiinjii mill SOME THINGS JACK CAN'T MAKE OUT. 293 my mind, for I ha' been bothering over't ever since thee spoke to me last." The same evening Jack had a long talk with Earry. His friend, although healthy, was by no means physi- cally strong, and found the work of a miner almost beyond him. He had never taken to the life as Jack had done, and his friend knew that for the last year or two he had been turning his thoughts in other direc- tions, and that of all things he would like to be a schoolmaster. He had for years read and studied a good deal, and Mr. Dodgson said that with a year in a training college he would be able to pass. He had often talked the matter over with Jack, and the latter told him now that he had entered his name in St. Mark's College, Chelsea, had paid his fees six months in advance, his savings amply sufficing for this with- out drawing upon his salary, and that he was to pre- sent himself there in a week's time. - The announcement took away Harry's breath, but as soon as he recovered himself he accepted Jack's offer as frankly as it was made. It had always been natural for Jack to lend him a hand, and it seemed to him, as to Jack, natural that it should be so now. Have you told Nelly?" No, I left it for you to tell, Harry. I know, of course, one reason why you want to be a schoolmaster, and she will know it too. She is a strange girl, is Nelly ; I never did quite understand her, and I never shall; why on earth she should refuse you I can't make (( (f A GOOD TURN. out She's had lots o' other offers these last four years, but it's all the same. There's no one she cares for, why shouldn't she take you?" " I can wait," Harry said quietly, " there's plenty of time ; perhaps some day I shall win her, and I think — ^yes, I think now — that I shall." *'Well," Jack said cheerfully, "as you say there's plenty of time; I've always said thirty was the right age to marry, and you want eight years of that, and Nelly won't get old faster than you do, so if she don't fall in love with any one else it must come right; she has stood out for nearl^^ four years, and though I don't pretend to know anything of women, I should think no woman could go on saying no for twelve years." Harry, although not given to loud mirth, laughed heartily at Jack's views over love-making, and the two then walked across to Nelly Hardy's cottage. Jack told her what Bill Haden and his wife had decided, and she approved their determination. Then Harry said what Jack had arranged for him. Nelly shook her head as if in answer to her own thoughts while Harry was speaking, but when he ceased she congratulated him warmly. " You were never fit for pit- work, Harry, and a schoolmaiter's life will suit you well It is curious that Jack's two friends should both have taken to the same life." Jack's surprise was unbounded when, a month after Uie reopening of the Vaughan, Mr. Brcok took him A LIBERAL MASTER. 295 bur years, 8 for, wby I plenty of Ld I think say there's J the right f that, and if she don't J right; she (Ugh I don't lould think e years." •th, laughed and the two ,tage. Jack decided, and Harry said to her own at when he over to his new abode. His bewilderment at the size and completeness of the house and its fittings was even greater than his pleasure. " But what am I to do alone in this great place, Mr. Brook?" he asked; "I shall be lost here. I am indeed deeply grateful to you, but it is much too big for me altogether." " It is no bigger now than it has always been," Mr. Brook said, " and you will never be lost as long as you have your study there/' and he pointed to a room snugly fitted up as a library and study. "You will be no more lonely than I or other men without wives and families; besides you know these may come some day." "Ah! but that will be many years on," Jack said; " I always made up my mind not to marry till I was thirty, because a wife prevents you making your way." " Yes; but now that you have made your way so far, Jack, a wife will aid rather than hinder you. But it will be time to think of that in another three or four years. You will not find it so dull as you ima- gine. Jack. There is your work, which will occupy the greater part of your day. There is your study for the evening. You will speedily know all the people worth knowing round here ; I have already introduced you to a good many, and they will be sure to call as soon as you are settled here. In the stable, my dear boy, you will find a couple of horses, and a saddle, and a dog- cart, so that you will be able to tako exercise and call about I shall keep the horses. I consider them neces- "~''^^'^«ia«*8wi«««.v.«. 296 IMPROVEMENTS. lii: ii sary for my manager. My men will keep the garden in order, and I think that you will find that your salary of £350 a year to begin with ample for your other expenses." Jack was completely overpowered by the kindness of his employer, but the latter would not hear of thanks. "Why, man, I owe you my life," he said; "what are these little things in comparison?" Jack found fewer difficulties than he had anticipated in his new position. His speech at the opening of the mine added to the favour with which he was held for his conduct at the time of the explosion, and further heightened the respect due to him for his defence of the Vaughan. As he went through the mine he had ever a cheery " Good morning, Bob," " Good morning, Jack," for his old comrades, and the word "sir" was now universally added to the answered " Good morning," a concession not always made by colliers to their em- ployers. The miners soon felt the advantages of the new manager's energy, backed as he was in every respect by the owner. The work as laid down by the govern- ment inspector was carried out, and Mr. Brook having bought up for a small sura the disused Logan mine, in which several of the lower seams of coal were still unworked, the opening between the pits was made permanent, and the Logan shaft became the upcast to the Vaughan, thus greatly simplifying the work of ven- tilation, lessening the danger of explosion, and giving a mm^: A JfKSSH START. 297 means of escape for the miners should such a catastrophe recur in spite of all precautions. As nearly half the old workers at the pit had perished in the explosion, an equal number of new hands had to be taken on. Jack, sharing the anxiety of the vicar and Mr. Dodgson, that all the good work should not be checked by the ingress of a fresh population, directed that all vacancies should be filled up by such colliers of good character as resided at Stokebridge, working for other pits in the neighbourhood. As the Vaughan pro- mised to be the most comfortable and well- worked pit in the country, these were only too glad to change ser- vice, and more names were given in than vacancies could be found for. As all the inhabitants of Stokebridge had participated in the benefits of the night schools and classes, and in the improvements which had taken place, the advance of the village suffered no serious check frcm the catastrophe at the Vaughan. ik -^^^^ !f •fi"'! mi h- ' i-it CHAPTER XXXI. CONCLUSION. HREE years more of progress and Stokebridge had become the model village of the Black Country. The chief employer of labour, his manager, the vicar, and schoolmaster all worked together for this end. The library had been a great success, and it was rare, indeed, for a drunken man to be seen in the streets even of a Saturday night. Many of the public-houses had closed their doors alto- gether ; and in addition to the library a large and com- fortable club-house had been built. The men of an evening could smoke their pipes, play at bagatelle, chess, draughts, or cards, and take such beer as they required, any man getting drunk or even noisy to be expelled the club. This, however, was a rule never requiring to be called into force. The building was conducted on the principle of a regimental canteen. The beer was good and cheap but not strong, no spirits were sold, but excellent tea, coffee, and chocolate could be had at the lowest prices. The building was closed during the day, but beer STOKEBRIDOE ADVANCES IN OIVILIZATION. 299 waa sent out both for dinners and suppers to those who required it. There was a comfortable room where women could sew, knit, and talk as they pleased, or they could, if they liked, sit in the general room with their husbands. Entertainments and lectures were of fire- quent occurrence, and the establishment, supplemented by the library and wash-house, did wonders for Stoke- bridge. The promise made by Mr. Brook at the fSte had been carried out. A choir-master came over twice a week from Birmingham, and the young people entered into the scheme with such zest that the choir had carried away the prize three years in succession at Birmingham. The night-school was now carried on on a larger scale than ever, and the school for cooking and sewing was so well attended that Mrs. Dodgson had now a second assistant. To encourage the children and young people an annual show was held at which many prizes were given for gardening, needlework; dressmaking, carpentering, and a variety of other subjects. It was seldom, indeed, that an untidy dress was to be seen, still more uncommon that a foul word was heard in the streets of Stokebridge. Nothing could make the rows of cottages picturesque as are those of a rural village; but from tubs, placed in front, creepers and roses climbed over the houses, while the gardens behind were gay with flowers. No young woman needed to remain single in Stoke- bridge longer than she chose, for so noteworthy were they mjgg I ! 300 OLD FRIXNDS ALL ROUND. for their housewifely qualities that the young pitmen of the villages round thought themselves fortunate in- deed if they could get a wife from Stokebridge. Bill Cummings, Fred Wood, and several others of Jack's boy friends, were viewers or under-managers of the Vaughan, and many had left to take similar situations elsewhere. Jack Simpson was popular with all classes. With the upper class his simple straightforwardness, his cheerfulness and good temper, made him a great favourite, although they found it hard to understand how so quiet and unassuming a young fellow could be the hero of the two rescues at the Vaughan, for, now when the fact was known, Jack no longer made a secret of his share in the attack by the rioters on the engine- house. Among the pitmen his popularity was un- bounded. Of an evening he would sometimes come down to the club-room and chat as unrestrainedly and in - timately as of old with the friends of his boyhood, and he never lost an opportunity of pushing their fortunes. Once a week he spent the evening with Bill Haden and his wife, who always came up and passed Sunday with him when he was at home. At this time all ceremony was dispensed with, the servants were sent out of the room, and when the pitman and his wife became accustomed to their surroundings they were far more at their ease than they had at first thought possible. On the evenings when he went down to his mother ii THE WAT OF FALLING IN LOVE. 301 to his mother he always dropped in for an hour's talk with his friend Nelly. There was no shadow of change in their rela- tions. Nelly was his friend firm and fast, to whom he told all his thoughts and plans. Harry wtis assistant master in a school at Birmingham, and was, as he told Jack, still waiting patiently. Jack was now often over at Birmingham, and one night he said to Nelly: " Nelly, I promised you long ago that I would tell you if I ever fell in love." "And you have come to tell me now?" she asked quietly. " Yes," he said, " if it can be called falling in love; for it has been so gradual that I don't know how it began. Perhaps three years ago, when she refused another man. I was glad of it, and of course asked myself why I was glad. There came no answer but one — I wanted her myself" *' I suppose it is Alice Merton?" Nelly said as quietly as before. "Of course," Jack said; "it could be no one else. I suppose I like her because she is the reverse of myself She is gentle but lively and full of fun, she is made to be the light of a hard working man's home. I am not at all gentle, and I have very little idea of fun. Alice is made to lean on some one. I suppose I am meant to be leant upon. I suppose it is always the case that opposite natures are attracted towards one another, the one forms the complement of the other." 303 NBLLY READS HER OWN HEART. ' &■ Nelly sat thinking. This then was the reason why she had never attracted Jack. Both their natures were strong and firm. Both had full control over themselves, although both of a passi mate nature; both had the capability of making great sacrifices, even ot life if necessary; both had ambition and a steady power of work. No wonder Jack had thought of her as a comrade rather than as a possible wife; while Harry, gentler and easily led, patient rather than firm, leaned upon her strong nature. " I think, dear Jack," she said, " that Miss Merton is the very woman to make you happy. You have known each other for twelve years, and can make no mistake. I need not say how truly and sincerely I wish you every happiness." There was a quiver in her voice as she spoke, but her face was as firm and steadfast as ever ; and Jack Simpson, as be walked homewards, did not dream that Nelly Hardy was weeping as if her heart would break, over this final downfall of her life's dream. It was not that she had for the last seven years ever thought that Jack would ask her to be his wife, but she would have been content to go on .to the end of her life as his first and dearest friend. Then she said at last, " That's done with. Jack and I will always be great friends, but not as we have been. Perhaps it is as well. Better now than ten years on.** Then her thoughts went to Harry, to whom, indeed, during the last few years they had gone oftener than she would have admitted to hersel£ " He is very faith- A HAPPY ANNIVERSARY. 303 T. le reason why their natures [ control over 3 nature; both rifioes, even ot a steady power tit of her as a ; while Harry, an firm, leaned Miss Merton is ou have known e no mistake. I wish you every ir voice as she eadfast as ever ; Bwards, did not as if her heart her life's dream, even years ever 36 his wife, but o the end of her hen she said at will always be i. Perhaps it is 3 whom, indeed, ne oftener than He is very faith- ful and kind and good, and I suppose one of these days I shall have to give in. He will not expect much, but he deserves all I could give him." In after years, however, Nelly Shepherd learned that she could give her husband very true and earnest love ; and the headmaster and mistress of the largest school at Wolverhampton are regarded by all who know them, and by none less than by Jack Simpson and his wife, as a perfectly happy couple. It is ten years since Jack married Alice Merton, who had loved him for years before he asked her to be his wife. Jack is now part proprietor of the Vaughan pit, and is still its real manager, although he has a nominal manager under him. He cannot, however, be always on the spot, as he lives near Birmingham, and is one of the greatest authorities on mining, and the first con- suiting engineer, in the Black Country. At Mr. Brook's death he will be sole proprietor of the Vaughan, that gentleman having at Jack's marriage settled its re- version upon his wife. Dinner is over, and he is sitting in the garden, sur- rounded by those he most cares for in the world. It is the 1 st of June, a day upon which a small party always assembles at ais house. By his side is his wife, and next to her are Harry Shepherd and Nelly. Be- tween the ladies a warm friendship has sprung up of late years, while that between the three friends has never diminished in the slightest. On Jack's other hand sits an artist, bearing one of the most honoured 804 all's well that ends well names in England, whose health Jack always pro- poses at this dinner as "the founder of his fortune." Next to the artist sits Mr. Brook, and beyond him Mrs. Simpson's father, a permanent resident in the house now, but some years back a professor of mathematics in Birmingham. Playing in the garden are six children, two of whom call the young Simpsons cousins, although there is no blood relationship between them ; and walk- ing with them are an old couple, who live in the pretty cottage just opposite to the entrance of the grounds, and whom Jack Simpson still affectionately calls " dad " »nd "mother." ck always pro- of his fortune." )eyond him Mrs. nt in the house • of mathematics I are six children, cousins, although them ; and walk- live in the pretty 5 of the grounds, lately calls "dad" ,'J-^'J*?!k»%»