Next day to the works, and there the foreman showed him a small forge on the ground floor, and a vacant room above to make his handles in and put the tools together; the blades were to be ground, whetted, and finished by cheaper hands.
A quick-eared grinder soon came up to them, and said roughly, “Ain't we to wet new forge?”
“They want their drink out of you,” said the foreman; and whispered, in great anxiety, “Don't say no, or you might as well work in a wasp's nest as here.”
“All right,” said Henry, cheerfully. “I'm no drinker myself, but I'll stand what is customary.”
“That is right,” said Foreman Bayne. “'Twill cost you fifteen shillings. But Peace is cheap at as many guineas.”
The word was given, and every man who worked on the same floor with Henry turned out to drink at his expense, and left off work for a good hour. With some exceptions they were a rough lot, and showed little friendliness or good-humor over it. One even threw out a hint that no cockney forges were wanted in Hillsborough. But another took him up, and said, “Maybe not; but you are not much of a man to drink his liquor and grudge him his bread.”
After this waste of time and money, Henry went back to the works, and a workman told him rather sulkily, he was wanted in the foreman's office.
He went in, and there was a lovely girl of eighteen, who looked at him with undisguised curiosity, and addressed him thus: “Sir, is it you that carve wood so beautifully?”
Henry blushed, and hesitated; and that made the young lady blush herself a very little, and she said, “I wished to take lessons in carving.” Then, as he did not reply, she turned to Mr. Bayne. “But perhaps he objects to teach other people?”
“WE should object to his teaching other workmen,” said the foreman; “but,” turning to Henry, “there is no harm in your giving her a lesson or two, after hours. You will want a set of the tools, miss?”