And both women went indoors disgusted.
The colliers, their faces scarcely blackened, were trooping home again.
Morel hated to go back.

He loved the sunny morning.

But he had gone to pit to work, and to be sent home again spoilt his temper.
"Good gracious, at this time!" exclaimed his wife, as he entered.
"Can I help it, woman ?" he shouted.
"And I've not done half enough dinner." "Then I'll eat my bit o' snap as I took with me," he bawled pathetically.

He felt ignominious and sore.
And the children, coming home from school, would wonder to see their father eating with his dinner the two thick slices of rather dry and dirty bread-and-butter that had been to pit and back.
"What's my dad eating his snap for now ?" asked Arthur.
"I should ha'e it holled at me if I didna," snorted Morel.
"What a story!" exclaimed his wife.
"An' is it goin' to be wasted ?" said Morel.

"I'm not such a extravagant mortal as you lot, with your waste.