He filled his tin bottle with tea.

Cold tea without milk or sugar was the drink he preferred for the pit.

Then he pulled off his shirt, and put on his pit-singlet, a vest of thick flannel cut low round the neck, and with short sleeves like a chemise.
Then he went upstairs to his wife with a cup of tea because she was ill, and because it occurred to him.
"I've brought thee a cup o' tea, lass," he said.
"Well, you needn't, for you know I don't like it," she replied.
"Drink it up; it'll pop thee off to sleep again." She accepted the tea.

It pleased him to see her take it and sip it.
"I'll back my life there's no sugar in," she said.
"Yi--there's one big 'un," he replied, injured.
"It's a wonder," she said, sipping again.
She had a winsome face when her hair was loose.

He loved her to grumble at him in this manner.