and others came trooping in, until upwards of a dozen of them were
collected in the narrow tunnel, each with his tallow candle in his hand
or hat, so that the place was lighted brilliantly. They were all clad
in loose, patched, and ragged clothes. All were of a uniform rusty-red
colour, each with his broad bosom bared, and perspiration trickling down
his besmeared countenance.

Here, however, the uniformity of their appearance ended, for they were
of all sizes and characters. Some were robust and muscular; some were
lean and wiry; some were just entering on manhood, with the ruddy hue of
health shining through the slime on their smooth faces; some were in the
prime of life, pale from long working underground, but strong, and
almost as hard as the iron with which they chiselled the rocks. Others
were growing old, and an occasional cough told that the "miners'
complaint" had begun its fatal undermining of the long-enduring,
too-long-tried human body. There were one or two whose iron
constitutions had resisted the evil influences of wet garments, bad air,
and chills, and who, with much of the strength of manhood, and some of
the colour of youth, were still plying their hammers in old age. But
these were rare specimens of vigour and longevity; not many such are to
be found in Botallack mine. The miner's working life is a short one,
and comparatively few of those who begin it live to a healthy old age.
Little boys were there, too, diminutive but sturdy urchins, miniature
copies of their seniors, though somewhat dirtier; proud as peacocks
because of being permitted at so early an age to accompany their fathers
or brothers underground, and their bosoms swelling with that stern
Cornish spirit of determination to face and overcome great difficulties,
which has doubtless much to do with the excessive development of chest
and shoulder for which Cornish miners, especially those of St. Just, are
celebrated. [See note 2.]

It turned out that the men had all arranged to fire their holes at the
same hour, and assemble in a lower level to take lunch, or, as they term
it, "kroust," while the smoke should clear away. This rendered it
impossible for the captain to take his young companion further into the
workings at that part of the mine, so they contented themselves with a
chat with the men. These sat down in a row, and, each man unrolling a
parcel containing a pasty or a thick lump of cake with currants in it,
commenced the