Son Philip | Page 5

mine where the good coal was but a yard in
thickness, and at which they had to work in a stooping, sometimes in a
lying, position.
"She sings to-night, lad," said one of the men, as they stripped
themselves to their trousers, and then began to use their sharp-pointed
picks, their blackened skins soon beginning to glisten with perspiration
in the stifling heat.
"Hey, she do," said Ebenezer, giving a careless glance at his sputtering
lamp. "There's part gas in pit to-neet."
The dim sputtering lamps, and the warning hiss of the gas were
forgotten as the men worked on, showing wondrous skill in the
handling of their picks, and fetching out great lumps of coal with the
greatest ease, in spite of the awkward position in which they worked.
This went on for a couple of hours, when Ebenezer threw down his
pick, seated himself with his back against a pillar of coal, one of those
left to support the roof, and took from his trousers pocket a steel
tobacco-box, a black short pipe, and a nail.
"Who's going to hev a smoke?" he said.
"I wouldn't let young master ketch you smoking," said one of the men.
"He'd better not say owt to me," said the man fiercely. "I know what
I'm 'bout better than he can tell me;" and as he filled his pipe several
more laughed and filled theirs; while, looking like some black spirit of
mischief, the big miner took the gauze lamp from the roof where it
hung.

"Now then, lads, who wants a leet?" he said; and, taking the nail, he
proceeded to pick the lock of the Davy-lamp, or rather unfasten it with
the improvised key.
There was a click as the little snap flew back; and then, placing his pipe
in his mouth, he proceeded to open the lamp.
This was about as wise an act as for a man to strike a match over an
open barrel full of glistening grains of gunpowder--perhaps far worse.
CHAPTER THREE.
MAKING AN ENEMY.
Even as the big miner had his hand upon the gauze cover of the
Davy-lamp there were tiny little explosions going on within, for in spite
of the great current of air that was kept up through the pit, a draught
which swept away the dangerous gas, there were places which its
purifying influence did not reach, places such as this new gallery in the
four-foot seam, where the vapour had been steadily increasing for hours
and collecting round the heads of the men.
Familiarity breeds contempt. Often enough we know that the men who
work in gunpowder mills have to be searched to keep them from taking
matches with them when they enter the mill.
Philip Hexton and his companion went on, the latter ready to grumble
as he grew weary of what he looked upon as unnecessary labour. "T'pit
was reet enew," he said to himself; and what need was there of
"peeking and poking about this how?"
For the young inspector seemed never satisfied. He was always on the
look-out for danger; and as they went on and on through the black
galleries, where the iridescent tints of the shaley coal flecked with iron
pyrites glittered and flashed in the dim light, he kept pausing and
listening.
"He won't stop at it long," said the overman to himself; "he's 'bout

scarred of it now. I niver see a lad so freckened at every sound."
It was quite true. Philip Hexton was startled at every sound; but it was
from fear for others--not for self. So far from feeling the ordinary
coward's dread, he would have gone at once into the most dangerous
places to save another's life; but he was at times appalled at the reckless
ways of the men.
In one gallery the roof, as the light glimmered upon it, was one
beautiful fret-work of ancient vegetation, being carved, as it were, into
knotted stems full of beautiful flutings. Huge ferny leaves could be
seen bending in graceful curves, and here and there, shining like
cuttings in jet, traces of the cone-like fruit borne by some of the trees of
that far-back age when the coal was deposited in bituminous beds.
These geological remains had a great interest for Philip Hexton, and he
promised himself plenty of amusement when his time of leisure came.
At present it was all work--extremely hard work, for, until he could
thoroughly master every technicality in the pit, he felt himself to be at a
great disadvantage with the men.
"Yo' weant be so partic'lar when yo've been here a few year, Master
Hexton," said the overman, as they were making their way down a wide
gallery whose coal had been worked out long enough before, and
across which part of the mine