rtained, but he feared
that his eyes had been altogether destroyed.

After the application of some cordial the unfortunate man began to
revive, and the first words he uttered were, "Praise the Lord"--
evidently in reference to his life having been spared.

"Is that you, Zackey?" he inquired after a few moments.

"No, it is the doctor, my man. Do you feel much pain in your head?" he
asked as he knelt beside him.

"Not much; there is a stunned feeling about it, but little pain. You'd
better light a candle."

"There are candles burning round you," said the doctor. "Do you not see
them? There is one close to your face at this moment."

Penrose made no answer on hearing this, but an expression of deep
gravity seemed to settle on the blackened features.

"We must get him up as soon as possible," said the doctor, turning to
Captain Dan, who stood at his elbow.

"We're all ready, sir," replied the captain, who had quietly procured
ropes and a blanket, while the doctor was examining the wounds.

With great labour and difficulty the injured man was half hauled, half
carried, and pushed up the shaft, and laid on the grass.

"Is the sun shining?" he asked in a low voice.

"Iss, it do shine right in thee face, Jim," said one of the miners,
brushing away a tear with the back of his hand.

Again the gravity of Penrose's countenance appeared to deepen, but he
uttered no other word; so they brought an old door and laid him on it.
Six strong men raised it gently on their shoulders, and, with slow steps
and downcast faces, they carried the wounded miner home.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

INDICATES THAT "WE LITTLE KNOW WHAT GREAT THINGS FROM LITTLE THINGS MAY
RISE."

Soon after this accident to James Penrose, the current of events at the
mines was diverted from its course by several incidents, which, like the
obstructing rocks in a rapid, created some eddies and whirlpools in the
lives of those personages with whom this chronicle has to do.

As the beginning of a mighty inundation is oft-times an
insignificant-looking leak, and as the cause of a series of great events
is not unfrequently a trifling incident, so the noteworthy circumstances
which we have still to lay before our readers were brought about by a
very small matter--by a baby--_the_ baby Maggot!

One morning that cherubical creature opened its eyes at a much earlier
hour than usual, and stared at the ceiling of its father's cottage. The
sun was rising, a