“They’d think we was two dirty little uns,” said the younger lad, laughing.
“They’ll ’appen ’a done before we get up ter th’ top,” added the elder boy— “an’ they’ll none venture down th’ shaft.”
“If they did,” put in the other, “You’d ha’e ter bath ’em after. I’d gi’e ’em a bit o’ my pasty.”
“Come on,” said the elder sulkily.
They tramped off, slurring their heavy boots.
“Merry Christmas!” I called after them.
“In th’ mornin’,” replied the elder.
“Same to you,” said the younger, and he began to sing with a tinge of bravado.
“In the fields with their flocks abiding.
They lay on the dewy ground——”
“Fancy,” said Lettie, “those boys are working for me!”