We have two hundred and seventy thousand pounds laid by and the Unions are spoiling for a fight.

Another eighteen-pence would make life a different thing for some of our pitmen.

And the masters can afford it, too.

Sixteen and a half per cent is the average dividend on the largest collieries around us." A small man, with gimlet-like black eyes and a heavy moustache, at which he had been tugging nervously during Peter Dale's remarks, plunged into the discussion.

His name was Abraham Weavel and he came from Sheffield.
"Coal's all very well," he declared, "but I speak for the ironfounders.
There's orders enough in Leeds and Sheffield to keep the furnaces ablaze for two years, and the masters minting money at it.