Between You and Me | Page 9

miners--they were
all in the secret began to roar with laughter. They weren't sorry to see
puir Jock shown up for the liar and boaster he was. But I was a little
sorry, when I saw how hard he took it, and how angry he was.
He aimed a blow at me that would have made me the sorry one if it had
landed fair, but I put up my jukes and warded it off, and he was
ashamed, after than, wi' the others laughing at him so, to try again to
punish me. He was very sensitive, and he never came back to the
Eddlewood Colliery; the very next day he found a job in another pit. He
was a good miner, was Jock, so that was no matter to him. But I've
often wondered if I really taught him a lesson, or if he always kept on
telling his twisters in his new place!

I stayed on, though, after Jock had gone, and after a time I drove a pony
instead of tending a gate. That was better work, and meant a few
shillings a week more in wages, too, which counted heavily just then.
I handled a number of bonnie wee Shetland ponies in the three years I
drove the hutches to and from the pitshaft. One likable little fellow was
a real pet. He followed me all about. It was great to see him play one
trick I taught him. He would trot to the little cabin and forage among all
the pockets till he found one where a man had left a bit of bread and
cheese at piece time. He'd eat that, and then he would go after a flask of
cold tea. He'd fasten it between his forefeet and pull the cork with his
teeth--and then he'd tip the flask up between his teeth and drink his tea
like a Christian. Aye, Captain was a droll, clever yin. And once, when I
beat him for stopping short before a drift, he was saving my life. There
was a crash just after I hit him, and the whole drift caved in. Captain
knew it before I did. If he had gone on, as I wanted him to do, we
would both ha' been killed.

CHAPTER IV
After I'd been in the mine a few years my brother Matt got old enough
to help me to support the family, and so, one by one, did my still
younger brothers. Things were a wee bit easier for me then; I could
keep a bit o' the siller I earned, and I could think about singing once in
a while. There were concerts, at times, when a contest was put on to
draw the crowd, and whenever I competed at one of these I usually won
a prize. Sometimes it would be a cheap medal; it usually was. I shall
never forget how proud I was the night a manager handed me real
money for the first time. It was only a five shilling piece, but it meant
as much to me as five pounds.
That same nicht one of the other singers gave me a bit of advice.
"Gae to Glasga, Harry," he said. "There's the Harmonic Competition.
Ye're dead certain to win a prize."

I took his advice, and entered, and I was one of those to win a medal.
That was the first time I had ever sung before total strangers. I'd always
had folk I knew well, friends of mine, for my audience before, and it
was a nerve racking experience. I dressed in character, and the song I
sang was an old one I doubt yell ha' heard-"Tooralladdie" it was called.
Here's a verse that will show you what a silly song it was:
"Twig auld Tooralladdie, Don't he look immense? His watch and chain
are no his ain His claes cost eighteenpence; Wi' cuffs and collar shabby,
0' mashers he's the daddy; Hats off, stand aside and let Past
Tooralladdie!"
My success at Glasgow made a great impression among the miners.
Everyone shook hands with me and congratulated me, and I think my
head was turned a bit. But I'd been thinking for some time of doing a
rash thing. I was newly married then, d'ye ken, and I was thinkin' it was
time I made something of myself for the sake of her who'd risked her
life wi' me. So that night I went home to her wi' a stern face.
"Nance!" I said. "I'm going to chuck the mine and go in for the stage.
My mind's made up."
Now, Nance liked my singin' well enough, and she thought, as I did,
that I could do better than some we'd heard on the stage. But I think
what she thought