The miner simply jerks his load, several hundredweight of flints, from ledge to ledge by the aid of his head, which he protects with something that neolithic man was probably without, namely, an old bowler hat.

He even talks a language of his own.

"Bubber-hutching on the sosh" is the term for sinking a pit on the slant, and, for all we can tell, may have a very ancient pedigree.

And what becomes of the miner's output?
It is sold by the "jag"-- a jag being a pile just so high that when you stand on any side you can see the bottom flint on the other--to the knappers of Brandon.

Any one of these--for instance, my friend Mr.
Fred Snare--will, while you wait, break up a lump with a short round hammer into manageable pieces.