urnaces in the underworld, and he it was who permitted the men to
enter the shaft and put a stick in the valve of the pulsometer so that
the mine became flooded and several entries caved in.

I was quite as angry as my temperament allowed, and it would have given
me much satisfaction to have killed them, for, after all, this is a
most effective method of getting rid of your enemies. It was,
nevertheless, no small satisfaction when the superintendent, a
tight-built muscular Englishman, gave the engineer a touch or two that
reminded the onlooker of a piston-rod in action. If might and right
are not the same thing, they ought to be. Two weeks later, the works
were re-opened with other workmen on a new wage scale. On arriving at
the mine the following day, I found our former employees were picketing
it. They had a crow to pluck with me, I could see that. The very air
was portentous. Those workmen were like the horses of Phoebus Apollo
in that their breasts were full of fire and they breathed it forth from
their nostrils and mouths. But while the men were abusive and
loud-voiced, they were never insulting, for even Satan finds it hard to
forge a weapon against a smile and an unwavering courtesy. And, after
all, what can strikers do with a vice-president who is a woman? It
seemed like taking an unfair advantage of them. It was only when we
met the miner's wives that I learned my exceeding limitations; that the
power fell out of my elbow and the stiffening out of my collar-bone.

When I say "we" I mean William and myself. Now, William was my driver,
and he spent fourteen years in the British cavalry. He had served in
Egypt and South Africa; he had fought his way through a screaming death
at Omdurman and yes, I will say it--William was "a nob" and handsome as
a circus horse. His deference as he lifted me down off the high seat,
his manifest concern for my comfort, and his superb arrogance as he
bade the women "Give over there!" were too much, for even these raging
furies to reckon with. His coolness under a withering fire of
invective restored me to normal and enabled me to stand pat.

To shorten the story, we had to engage three successive gangs before we
won out. By that time the strikers had become divided, some having
accepted work in other mines, while the remainder became discouraged
and gradually gave up the picket.

I have dwelt at some length on this matter of strikes because, as yet,
no actual opera