James T. Boulton

"You needn't 'a brought me bread an' butter as well," said
the little man. "But a cup of tea"--he sipped appreciatively--
"it's very nice" He sipped a moment or two, then:"I hear
as Walter's no better than he was," he said.

"We don't expect him to be any better," said the woman
bitterly.

"I heered tell of him in the 'Lord Nelson' braggin' as he
was going to spend that b---- afore he went: half a sovereign
that was."

"When?" asked the woman, very curtly.

"A' Sat'day night--an' I know it's true."

"Very likely," laughed the woman with great bitterness.
"He is doing pretty well--an' gives me twenty-three shillings.
I'd rather have bad times than good, he hasn't so much to spend."

"It's a crying shame, he wants horsewhipping!" said the
little man. The woman turned her head with weary impatience.
Her father swallowed the last of his tea, and handed her the cup.

"Ay," he sighed, wiping his mouth. "I've repented the
day I ever let you have him."

He put his hand on the lever. The little engine strained
and groaned, and the train rumbled towards the crossing. The
woman again looked across the metals. Darkness was settling
over the spaces of the railway and the trucks: the miners, in
grey sombre groups were still passing home. The winding
engine was pulsing hurriedly, with brief pauses. The woman
looked at the dreary flow of men, then she went indoors.

"Is tea ready?" asked the boy, standing with his arms
on the table, which was laid with a cloth and cups and
saucers.

16