He was par excellence the type of a miner whose whole existence is indissolubly connected with that of his mine.

He had lived there from his birth, and now that the works were abandoned he wished to live there still.

His son Harry foraged for the subterranean housekeeping; as for himself, during those ten years he had not been ten times above ground.
"Go up there! What is the good ?" he would say, and refused to leave his black domain.

The place was remarkably healthy, subject to an equable temperature; the old overman endured neither the heat of summer nor the cold of winter.

His family enjoyed good health; what more could he desire?
But at heart he felt depressed.