Son Philip | Page 9

Eben, glaring vindictively round at his
companions. "Man enew for me? Sithee: you know me, lads, and what
I can do."
There was no reply.
"Yo' all know me, and what I can do, and do you think I'm going to let
a bit of a boy, wi' his pretence about his larning and studies, bunch me
and ca' me a fool and a brute when I know more about t'mine wi' one o'
my hands than he does wi' his whole body."
Still there was no reply, the men taking up their picks and looking
uneasily at the speaker.
"Tell 'ee what. I'm a man, I am, and a man o' my word. I said I'd put my
mark on him for this job; and I will. Yo' all hear me, don't 'ee? I say I'll
put my mark upon him."
The big miner, with his fierce blackened face and rolling eyes, looked
vindictive enough then to be guilty of any atrocity as he seemed to be
seeking for an answer.
"Yo' hear me? I say I'll put my mark upon him."
"Not thou, lad," said one of his companions at last.
"I tell 'ee I will. Never mind when or wheer. And now wheer's the man
as'll go and tell him what I say?"
No one spoke, and soon after that was heard the regular metallic

chip--chip--chip of the picks in the black wall of coal, Ebenezer Parks
muttering to himself the while, and thinking of how he could best
revenge himself upon "that boy."
CHAPTER FIVE.
'TWIXT FATHER AND SON.
When her son went home, Mrs Hexton was sitting up very straight and
stern-looking in her chair, with a knitted stocking in one hand, a
worsted-threaded needle in the other, and a handkerchief tied over her
head to keep off the draught, for the new drawing-room was cold.
Mr Hexton was seated in an easy-chair--at least, he was in the
easy-chair; but it is not fair to say that he was seated, for he was filling
up the chair just as if he had no bones, and making a rather sonorous
noise as he breathed.
It was past one o'clock, and the servants had gone to bed at ten, soon
after which time Mr Hexton had proposed that they should follow, but
Mrs Hexton had declared her intention of sitting up for her son.
"Why, what nonsense!" her husband had said. "Come along to bed."
"You can go, dear," she replied quietly. "I should not be happy if I did
not see him safely back. And, besides, he will want a cup of tea and a
bit of toast."
"And his face washed, and his feet put in warm water, while his mother
brushes his hair, and fusses over him," said Mr Hexton pettishly. "For
goodness' sake, don't go on petting and coddling the boy like that."
Mrs Hexton said nothing--only rose from her chair, and placed the
tea-tray and the caddy ready, for they had been brought in the last thing
by one of the maids. Then she lifted the bright copper kettle out of the
fender and placed it on the hob, where it began to sing a song of its
own composition, and she ended by taking up three pairs of her son's
stockings to darn.

There was not the slightest need for Mrs Hexton to perform such a duty
as this, but she had darned her husband's stockings when they were
poor people, and she could not easily give up her old habits when they
were comparatively rich. And now, as she ran the long, glistening
needle in and out amongst the worsted threads, her husband sat back in
his chair and said it was absurd; but all the same, as he watched her
with half-closed eyes, he thought what a good woman she was, and
how happy it made him to think that she was not in the slightest degree
spoiled by prosperity, while he fervently prayed that she might
continue as she was to the end.
Then, as he sank back lower and lower, thinking how earnestly his son
had set about his task of reforming and improving the matters in the
mine, he began to recall the terrible accidents that had happened at their
pit, and at those in the neighbourhood. It would be a grand thing, he
thought, if Philip, with his fresh and earnest mind and his knowledge,
could do something to lessen the dangers of the pitman's life; though he
rather trembled for the result, knowing as he did how hard it is to get
over old prejudices.
Then all became very misty and strange; and to his blurred eyesight it
seemed as if Mrs Hexton's grey stocking-covered hand got itself mixed
up with her head, and her head