no means unmoved by the rough-and-ready spirit of the scene. "I only wish I had had better luck, that's all."
A few hours later the whole of the little town was shaken to its very foundations, by something like an earthquake, accompanied by an ominous, booming sound which brought people flocking out of their houses, with white faces. Some of them had heard it before—all knew what it meant. From the colliers' cottages poured forth women, shrieking and wailing,—women who bore children in their arms and had older ones dragging at their skirts, and who made their desperate way to the pit with one accord. From houses and workshops there rushed men, who, coming out in twos and threes joined each other, and, forming a breathless crowd, ran through the streets scarcely daring to speak a word—and all ran toward the pit.
There were scores at its mouth in five minutes; in ten minutes there were hundreds, and above all the clamor rose the cry of women:
"My Hester's down!"
"An' mine!"
"An' mine!"
"Four lads o' mine is down!"
"Three o' mine!"
"My little un's theer—th' youngest—nobbut ten year owd—nobbut ten year owd, poor little chap! an' ony been at work a week!"
"Ay, wenches, God ha' mercy on us aw'—God ha' mercy!" And then more shrieks and wails in which tho terror-stricken children joined.
It was a fearful sight. How many lay dead and dying in the noisome darkness below, God only knew! How
