a gap between the boards on which he
stood.

Oliver looked down, and there beheld a stalwart young man, about a
couple of yards under his feet, wielding a hammer with tremendous
vigour. His light linen coat was open, displaying his bared and
muscular bosom.

"What! is _he_ a local preacher also?"

"He is, sir," said the miner, with a smile.

Oliver immediately descended to the stage below, and had a chat with
this man also, after which he left them at their work, wondering very
much at the intelligence and learning displayed by them; for he
remembered that in their sermons they had, without notes, without
hesitation, and without a grammatical error, entered into the most
subtle metaphysical reasoning (rather too much of it indeed!), and had
preached with impassioned (perhaps too impassioned) eloquence, quoting
poets and prose writers, ancient and modern, with the facility of good
scholars--while they urged men and women to repent and flee to Christ,
with all the fervour of men thoroughly in earnest. On the other hand,
he knew that their opportunities for self-education were not great, and
that they had to toil in the meantime for daily bread, at the rate of
about 3 pounds a month!

Following Captain Dan, Oliver soon reached the ladder-way.

While slowly and in silence ascending the ladders; they heard a sound of
music above them.

"Men coming down to work, singing," said the captain, as they stood on a
cross-beam to listen.

The sounds at first were very faint and inexpressibly sweet. By degrees
they became more distinct, and Oliver could distinguish several voices
singing in harmony, keeping time to the slow measured tread of their
descending steps. There seemed a novelty, and yet a strange
familiarity, in the strains as they were wafted softly down upon his
ear, until they drew near, and the star-like candles of the miners
became visible. Their manly voices then poured forth in full strength
the glorious psalm-tune called "French," which is usually sung in
Scotland to the beautiful psalm beginning, "I to the hills will lift
mine eyes."

The men stopped abruptly on encountering their captain and the stranger.
Exchanging a few words with the former, they stood aside on the beams
to let them pass. A little boy came last. His small limbs were as
active as those of his more stalwart comrades, and he exhibited no signs
of fatigue. His treble voice, too, was heard high and tuneful among the
others as the