it by a slow match,
retired to a distance. The powder exploding, shattered the whole mass,
and it came tumbling down to the ground in fragments. This could only
have been done where no foul air was present, otherwise the moment the
lamp was opened there would have been a fearful explosion, and he, with
many others, would perhaps have been killed. He laboured on incessantly
until dinner time, when he and all the men in the working, including the
putters, came out, and taking Mark with them, repaired to a central spot
where there were casks of water, and seats, the only accommodation
required by the rough miners. Here their dinners, which had been sent
down during the morning, were eaten.

"Well, how do you get on?" asked his uncle of Mark.

"I kept awake, opened the door when the rolleys came by, and shut it
again after they had passed!" answered Mark.

"That's what I had to do!" said Simon.

"I only wish that I had a candle, and had brought a book down to read.
I should not have minded it much then, although it was a hard matter to
keep awake!"

"You were not afraid, then?" asked another man.

"What was there to be afraid of?" asked Mark. "I heard noises, but I
knew what they were, so I did not mind them!"

"You'll do!" said his uncle in an approving tone. Mark ate his dinner,
and then went back to his trap. He there sat all alone in the dark,
anxiously waiting for "kenner" time. It came at last, and Mark heard
the words "kenner, kenner," which had been shouted down the pit's mouth,
passed along the galleries. It was the signal for the miners to knock
off work, and return to the upper world.

Mark, however, could not venture to move until his uncle came for him.
He was very thankful when he saw the glimmer of a light along the
gallery. Slowly it approached. It was carried by his uncle, who having
closed the door, led him along through the main tunnel towards the
shaft. Together they ascended, and returned home. Mrs Gilbart had
been dreadfully alarmed at her son's absence, until told by a neighbour
that she had seen him going along with his uncle towards the pit's
mouth.

A mother's eye alone could have recognised him, so greatly changed was
he by the coal dust. She soon, however, got that washed off, and
dressed him again in his clean clothes. He did not complain or ask his
mother to keep him out of the mine, so, although still with an unwilling
heart, she allowed his uncle to take him. The ne