"Well," replied he, "cryin' 'll do nought, wilt ?" And then, as I walked away, he shouted after me, with a sort of sad smile, "It's a poor heart at never rejoices, maister." Leaving the quarries, we waited below, until the men had struck work for the day, and the whole six hundred came trooping down the road, looking hard at me as they went by, and stopping here and there, in whispering groups.

The paymaster told me that one-half of the men's wages was paid to them in tickets for bread--in each case given to the shopkeeper to whom the receiver of the ticket owed most money-- the other half was paid to them in money every Saturday.

Before returning to town I learnt that twenty of the more robust men, who had worked well for their shilling a day in the quarries, had been picked out by order of the Board of Guardians, to be sent to the scene of the late disaster, in Lincolnshire, where employment had been obtained for them, at the rate of 3s.4d.per day.

They were to muster at six o'clock next morning to breakfast at the soup kitchen, after which they were to leave town by the seven o'clock train.

I resolved to be up and see them off.