“Nonsense!” said Uncle Bob; “you’re going to be a man now, and help us.”
“Am I?” said I sadly.
“To be sure you are. There, put that gloomy face in your pocket and learn geography.”
They both chatted to me, and I felt a little better, but anything but cheerful, for it was my first time of leaving home. I looked at the landscape, and the towns and churches we passed, but nothing seemed to interest me till, well on in my journey, I saw a sort of wooden tower close to the line, with a wheel standing half out of the top. There was an engine-house close by—there was no doubt about it, for I could see the puffs of white steam at the top, and a chimney. There was a great mound of black slate and rubbish by the end; but even though the railway had a siding close up to it, and a number of trucks were standing waiting, I did not realise what the place was till Uncle Jack said:
“First time you’ve seen a coal-pit, eh?”
“Is that a coal-pit?” I said, looking at the place more eagerly.
“Those are the works. Of course you can’t see the shaft, because that’s only like a big square well.”
“But I thought it would be a much more interesting place,” I said.
“Interesting enough down below; but of course there is nothing to see at the top but the engine, cage, and mouth of the shaft.”
That brightened me up at once. There was something to think about in connection with a coal-mine—the great deep shaft, the cage going up and down, the miners with their safety-lamps and picks. I saw it all in imagination as we dashed by another and another mine. Then I began to think about the accidents of which I had read; when men unfastened their wire-gauze lamps, so that they might do that which was forbidden in a mine, smoke their pipes. The match struck or the opened lamp set fire to the gas, when there was an awful explosion, and after that the terrible dangers of the after-damp, that fearful foul air which no man could breathe for long and live.