They were pacified at last; but, after the superintendent had gone away, some of the men said much and more, and "if ever he towd ony moor lies abeawt 'em, they'd fling him into th' cut." The "Labour Master" told me there was a large wood shed for the men to shelter in when rain came on.

As we were conversing, one of my friends exclaimed, "He's here now!" "Who's here ?" "Radical Jack." The superintendent was coming down the road.
He told me some interesting things, which I will return to on another occasion.

But our time was up.

We had other places to see.
As we came away, three old Irishwomen leaned against the wall at the corner of the yard, watching the men at work inside.

One of them was saying, "Thim guardians is the awfullest set o' min in the world! A man had better be transpoorted than come under 'em.