stopped, then the bread must soon stop, and then would come a dark
_period_, that is, a full stop.

In their day of trouble they carried their case to the Lord, and asked
His fatherly aid; many a time did they go together to vent their burden
of trouble in His ear, and obtain strength to endure their trial. One
day, after Abe had been in this way asking help and counsel of the
Lord, he came and sat in a chair at one end of the table, while his
wife sat near him, quietly stitching away at an old garment she was
mending. For a few minutes neither of them spoke; by-and-by Sally
looked up from her work to thread her needle, and their eyes met. She
had a very sad look upon her face, for her heart was full of trouble,
and she was just ready for what she called "a good cry;" but the moment
she saw his face, which was covered all over with a comical smile, she
caught the infection, and burst into a laugh,--a kind of hysterical
laugh that had more sorrow than mirth in it. She laughed and he
laughed, one at the other, till tears came from the eyes of both, and
their poor sorrow-sick hearts seemed as if they would rise into their
throats and choke them.

"Naa, lass, what's matter with the'?" at length exclaimed Abe.

"Why, it's thee made me laugh soa."

"Me, what did I do?"

"Ay, thaa may weel ask," said Sally, wiping her eyes with her apron.
"Why, thaa looked a'most queer enough to mak' a besom-shank laugh;
thaa's made my soides ache."

"Well, it 'll do thee gooid; thaa wants a bit of a change, for thaa's
had heartache lang enough," responded her husband.

Sally resumed her work, but said nothing; her only response was a
deep-drawn sigh. A few moments of silence again ensued, which Abe
broke by saying, "Sally, haa would the' loike to see me wi' a black
face?"

"What's 'ta say?"

"Haa w'd th' loike to see me wi' a black face?" repeated Abe.

"What art ta going to blacken thee face forr doesn't th' like thee own
colour? what does ta mean?" inquired Sally looking at him.

"I mean," replied Abe with great earnestness, "that I'm gooin to turn
collier."

"Nay, niver, lad!" cried his wife in dismay.

"Why, it's only for a bit till things brighten up in aar loine, and
then thaa knows I can get wark at th' mill agean."

Poor Sally wept in earnest now; it was a shock to her feelings that she
was not prepared for. At length she said, "I niver thought of thee
goin daan a coil-pit, thaa isn't used to it, and thaa 'll