CHAPTER XIV.
"Oh, let us bear the present as we may, Nor let the golden past be all forgot; Hope lifts the curtain of the future day, Where peace and plenty smile without a spot On their white garments; where the human lot Looks lovelier and less removed from heaven; Where want, and war, and discord enter not, But that for which the wise have hoped and striven-- The wealth of happiness, to humble worth is given.
"The time will come, as come again it must, When Lancashire shall lift her head once more; Her suffering sons, now down amid the dust Of Indigence, shall pass through Plenty's door; Her commerce cover seas from shore to shore; Her arts arise to highest eminence; Her products prove unrivall'd, as of yore; Her valour and her virtue--men of sense And blue-eyed beauties--England's pride and her defence." -- BLACKBURN BARD.
Jackson's office as labour-master kept him constantly tramping about the sandy moor from one point to another.

He was forced to be in sight, and on the move, during working hours, amongst his fifteen hundred scattered workmen.

It was heavy walking, even in dry weather; and as we kneaded through the loose soil that hot forenoon, we wiped our foreheads now and then.

"Ay," said he, halting, and looking round upon the scene, "I can assure you, that when I first took howd o' this job, I fund my honds full, as quiet as it looks now.

I was laid up for nearly a week, an' I had to have two doctors.
But, as I'd undertakken the thing, I was determined to go through with it to th' best o' my ability; an' I have confidence now that we shall be able to feight through th' bad time wi' summat like satisfaction, so far as this job's consarned, though it's next to impossible to please everybody, do what one will.