“Then Tom Dinass won’t never get no engagements, but set up for a gentleman, and I think I shall do the same, for work and me aren’t the best of friends.”
“Get out!” said Gwyn, laughing; “why, you’re never happy unless you are at work—is he, Joe?”
“No, he’s a regular nuisance. Always wanting to do something else, and stop late in the mine wasting the candles.”
“What a shame, Mr Joe!” said Hardock, grinning.
“It’s quite true, Sam,” cried Gwyn. “Done all that painting up of arrows on the walls near the water gallery?”
“Not quite, sir; I’m going to have a good long day at it on Friday.”
“Friday’s an unlucky day,” said Joe.
“Not it, sir, when you want to get a job done. And I say, Mr Gwyn, come down with me. There’s a long drift you’ve never seen yet, where there’s some cracks and hollows chock full of the finest crystals I ever see.”
“Crystals?” cried Gwyn.
“In a new gallery?” said Joe, excitedly.