In regard to the age of those engaged in mines, thirty, forty, or fifty years ago it was the rule rather than the exception to send boys to work at eight or nine years of age. The Mines Act of 1872 wholly prohibits the employment below ground of women or girls of any age, and fixes for boys the minimum age at twelve for a full day’s employment, and that only when a certain educational standard has been reached. Curiously enough, however, a boy above ground cannot be engaged full time until he is thirteen years old. Surely it is one of the unintentional anomalies of the Mines Act that in the open air boys are precluded from working till they are a year older than they may be at work underground. A warning note may be sounded in regard to the age at which boys are engaged. We know that many are employed in mines at the minimum age of twelve, irrespective of their educational standard. If the Education Act and the Mines Act are here at variance, or if there is the want of a public prosecutor to see them enforced, the wants should be without waste of time supplied, and not cause beneficial clauses to be inoperative.
Respecting the education of miners’ children, the Education Acts have been highly advantageous in giving compulsory powers to School Boards and managers; but even before their introduction, this class of children had many comparative benefits in a much less degree enjoyed by others. The works-schools have always been a feature in Scotch mining centres. We have not seen any pointed allusion to the fact that these schools, long before the introduction of Education Acts, solved the problem of free education in a way satisfactory to all concerned. Happily, in many places these schools are still left under the old management, though nominally connected with School Boards. Under the works-school system, all the workers, whether married or single, agreed to pay a weekly sum, say, of twopence. This insured the education of the workman’s family, however large it might be. The unmarried suffered by this voluntary sacrifice on their part, but they did so at a time of life when they were least burdened; but the struggling married man reaped the full benefit when he most needed assistance. In the case of a workman with four children of school-age at one time, the almost nominal cost of a halfpenny per week paid for each child’s education. Small though this sum is, we have known schools self-supporting under the system for years, with no other aid than the government grant earned at the annual inspection, besides being able to supply night-school education in the winter months to the elderly youths of the place.
Besides a school, it is one of the evidences of the improved state of mining communities that they usually have all the adjuncts of civilisation amongst them. There is the church, where the rich and the poor meet together, and in this connection it may be said that miners are as a class either very zealous religionists, or they go to the other extreme, and care for none of these things. The clergy of our day is largely recruited from mining villages; whilst the list of miners who have become home missionaries is a long one. Then there is the Temperance Society, either a Good Templars’ Lodge, or an offshoot from some of the other anti-alcohol societies; there is the Library of well-selected books, which are much read. There is the Savings-bank; the Reading-room, with a full supply of daily newspapers and other periodical literature; the String and Reed Bands; the Bowling Green, Football and Quoiting Field—the amusements of the miners of our day being all on a higher level than those of forty years ago, when cock-fighting and dog-fighting monopolised attention. Nor can we omit to mention that Sick and Funeral and other benevolent Societies are marked associations in every colliery village worthy of the name. Miners are indeed remarkably considerate to each other, when any special emergency occurs to call forth their active sympathy, being ever ready to subscribe for a brother-worker who has been unfortunate beyond the common lot.
The prospect of the temporary nature of a mining village at the best, forms a strong temptation for nothing but necessary house accommodation, and that of the barest kind, being provided for workmen. The mining proprietor takes a lease of a mineral field, in the middle of a moor it may be, where no houses exist, and where everything has to be erected and provided. Accommodation for the workpeople has to be erected whether the field proves successful or not; and when the field is exhausted, he is in the power of the landlord whether he must remove the buildings and restore the ground, or leave them as they are. In either of these cases, the mineral lessee receives no compensation for his outlay, usually of many thousands of pounds. Hence, as we have stated, there is much temptation for the colliery lessee to erect flimsy houses in keeping with the possible shortness of their use. But colliery owners often rise superior to this evident temptation, and in spite of the possible unremunerative nature of the mineral field, excellent houses, with copious water-supply, are provided. Where this is done, naturally a better class of workers settle down; and when there is a fairly good prospect before the lessee, it is doubtless nothing but justice to himself and his workmen to afford the men every comfort.
It is not too much to say that in the best collieries, the interests of the workmen are cared for in the most enlightened manner. Situated as are many colliery villages, beyond the oversight of regularly constituted municipalities, the whole onus of sanitary and other regulations falls upon the master, and he does not shirk his duty in such cases. Means of social enjoyment are provided—the physical, intellectual, moral, and spiritual well-being of the populace are cared for, and the colliers of to-day are in consequence an intelligent and respectable class of men. Crime is proportionately small amongst mining villages, and those who best know the miner are aware that he is possessed of much kindness of heart, and that in the prosecution of his dangerous calling he often exhibits true heroism.
GEORGE HANNAY’S LOVE AFFAIR.
CHAPTER V.—THE EDITOR’S SANCTUM—A DISCLOSURE.
Alfred Roberton felt the smart of Nan’s summary dismissal more than he could have expected, or even than he owned to himself. His vanity was sorely hurt, and he lost a good deal of that audacious insouciance in his manner towards the opposite sex for which he had been before remarkable. He sent back Nan’s letters honourably enough, and set himself to forget her, as she had him. In order to effect this, he determined to supplant the old love by a new; and commenced paying marked attentions to Miss Curtiss, the twenty-thousand-pound young lady. His suit prospered, and the fair one capitulated; but the terms of the surrender were to be fixed by her friends. They made objections to the smallness and uncertainty of his income. On the other hand, Alfred’s solicitor found the young lady’s properties were so heavily mortgaged as only to leave a very small margin of income; and the result was the negotiations were broken off. Then, somehow or another, his society was no longer so eagerly sought after. A young violinist had taken the place he formerly held in Mrs Judson’s social circle, and when that gentleman was present, Alfred was cast entirely in the shade. But there was worse than that: he could no longer find a market for the remainder of his manuscripts. The publishers and editors who had patronised him before were desirous of seeing what course the Olympic took with regard to him. It was very singular, they thought, that there never was any second article from his pen inserted in it. Some ill-speaking folks even went the length of hinting that he wasn’t ‘Ariel’ at all; that the claim he made to that nom de plume was a mere ruse to get into society, and get some of his trashy manuscripts palmed off on unsuspicious editors and publishers.
He felt these things very grievous to bear: the only hope that buoyed him up was, that when the editor of the Olympic returned to town, all would be put right. He would go straight to him and say: ‘I am Ariel! and here is a much superior sketch to the one I first sent you. Insert it, and I will not haggle with you about the amount of the honorarium, for I know you are a generous paymaster.’ Then all would again be well; he would resume his proper place in society, and his writings would be as eagerly sought after as ever.
It was towards the end of March when Mr Hannay returned from his prolonged continental tour. Allowing him a day or two to get settled down, one blowy, blustering forenoon, Alfred sallied forth to call on him. He sent in his card, and in a few minutes was in the editor’s sanctum.