w, I find," said Oliver as
they walked along.

"Iss sur, they are," replied Trevarrow, in the quiet tone that was
peculiar to him; "but, thank God, we do manage to live, though there are
some of us with a lot o' child'n as finds it hard work. The Bal [The
mine] ain't so good as she once was."

"I suppose that you have frequent changes of fortune?" said Oliver.

The miner admitted that this was the case, for that sometimes a man
worked underground for several weeks without getting enough to keep his
family, while at other times he might come on a bunch of copper or tin
which would enable him to clear 50 pounds or more in a month.

"If report says truly," observed Oliver, "you have hit upon a `keenly
lode,' as you call it, not many days ago."

"A do look very well now, sur," replied the miner, "but wan can never
tell. I did work for weeks in the level under the say without success,
so I guv it up an went to Wheal Hazard, and on the back o' the
fifty-fathom level I did strike 'pon a small lode of tin 'bout so thick
as my finger. It may get better, or it may take the bit in its teeth
and disappear; we cannot tell."

"Well, I wish you good luck," said Oliver; "and here comes Captain Dan,
so I'll bid you good-morning."

"Good-morning, sur," said the stout-limbed and stout-hearted man, with a
smile and a nod, as he turned off towards the moor-house to put on his
mining garments.

Towards this house a number of men had been converging while Oliver and
his companion approached it, and the former observed, that whatever
colour the men might be on entering it, they invariably came out light
red, like lobsters emerging from a boiling pot.

In Botallack mine a large quantity of iron is mingled with the tin ore.
This colours everything in and around the mine, including men's clothes,
hands, and faces, with a light rusty-red. The streams, of course, are
also coloured with it, and the various pits and ponds for collecting the
fluid mud of tin ore seem as if filled with that nauseous compound known
by the name of "Gregory's Mixture."

In the moor-house there were rows of pegs with red garments hung thereon
to dry, and there were numerous broad-shouldered men dressing and
undressing--in every stage of the process; while in a corner two or
three were washing their bodies in a tank of water. These last were men
who had been at work all night, and were cleansing themselves before
putting on what we may term their home-going