He loathed a fork: it is a modern introduction which has still scarcely reached common people.

What Morel preferred was a clasp-knife.

Then, in solitude, he ate and drank, often sitting, in cold weather, on a little stool with his back to the warm chimney-piece, his food on the fender, his cup on the hearth.

And then he read the last night's newspaper--what of it he could--spelling it over laboriously.

He preferred to keep the blinds down and the candle lit even when it was daylight; it was the habit of the mine.
At a quarter to six he rose, cut two thick slices of bread and butter, and put them in the white calico snap-bag.