lied, "but we'll hae to work awfu'
hard, or we'll no' get it. Guid nicht!" And so the children parted,
feeling that the world was about to be good to them, and all their
thought of care was bounded by six and sixpence a week.

Mysie was glad to tell the result of the whole interview to her parents.
She was full of it, and could talk of nothing else as she worked about
the house that night. Her mother had been in delicate health for a long
time, and so Mysie had most of the housework to do. Matthew Maitland and
his wife, Jenny, were pleased at the result, and gave Robert due credit
for his part--a credit that Mysie was delighted to hear from them.

The next morning the two children went to work, when children of their
years ought to have been still in bed dreaming their little dreams.

The great wheels at the pithead seemed terrible in their never-ending
revolutions, as they flew round to bring up the loads of coal. The big
yawning chasm, with the swinging steel rope, running away down into the
great black hole, was awesome to look at, as the rope wriggled and
swayed with its sinister movements; and the roar and whir of wheels,
when the tables started, bewildered them. These crashed and roared and
crunched and groaned; they would squeal and shriek as if in pain, then
they would moan a little, as if gathering strength to break out in
indignant protest; and finally, roar out in rebellious anger, giving
Robert the idea of an imprisoned monster of gigantic strength which had
been harnessed whilst it slept, but had wakened at last to find itself
impotent against its Lilliputian captor--man.

An old man instructed them in their duties.

"You'll staun here," he panted, indicating a little platform about two
feet broad, and running along the full length of the "scree." "You'll
watch for every bit stane that comes doon, an' dinna' let any past. Pick
them oot as soon as you see them, an' fling them owre there, an' Dickie
Tamson'll fill them into the hutch, an' get them taken to the dirt
bing."

"A' richt," said Robert, as he looked at the narrow platform, with its
weak, inadequate railing, which could hardly prevent anyone from falling
down on to the wagon track, some fifteen or twenty feet below on one
side, or on to the moving "scree" on the other.

"Weel, mind an' no' let any stanes gang past, for there are aye
complaints comin' in aboot dirty coals. If ye dinna work an' keep oot
the stanes, you'll get the sack," and he