endal and Lancaster. A great deal of
them are brought from a place called "Tewhitt Field," about seven
mile on "t' other side o' Lancaster." At the "Stone Yard" it is all
piece-work, and the men can come and go when they like. As one of
the Guardians told me, "They can oather sit an' break 'em, or kneel
an' break 'em, or lie deawn to it, iv they'n a mind." The men can
choose whether they will fill three tons of the broken stone, and
wheel it to the central heap, for a shilling, or break one ton for a
shilling. The persons employed here are mostly "lads an' leet-
timber't chaps." The stronger men are sent to work upon Preston
Moor. There are great varieties of health and strength amongst them.
"Beside," as the Labour Master said, "yo'd hardly believe what a
difference there it i'th wark o' two men wortchin' at the same heap,
sometimes. There's a great deal i'th breaker, neaw; some on 'em's
more artful nor others. They finden out that they can break 'em as
fast again at after they'n getten to th' wick i'th inside. I have
known an' odd un or two, here, that could break four ton a day,--an'
many that couldn't break one,--but then, yo' know, th' men can only
do accordin' to their ability. There is these differences, and there
always will be." As we stood talking together, one of my friends
said that he wished "Radical Jack" had been there. The latter
gentleman is one of the guardians of the poor, and superintendent of
the "Stone Yard." The men are naturally jealous of
misrepresentation; and, the other day, as "Radical Jack" was
describing the working of the yard to a gentleman who had come to
look at the scene, some of the men overheard his words, and,
misconceiving their meaning, gathered around the superintendent,
clamorously protesting against what he had been saying. "He's
lying!" said one. "Look at these honds!" cried another; "Wi'n they
ever be fit to go to th' factory wi' again?"

Others turned up the soles of their battered shoon, to show their
cut and stockingless feet. They were pacified at last; but, after
the superintendent had gone away, some of the men said much and
more, and "if ever he towd ony moor lies abeawt 'em, they'd fling
him into th' cut." The "Labour Master" told me there was a large
wood shed for the men to shelter in when rain came on. As we were
conversing, one of my friends exclaimed, "He's here now!" "Who's
here?" "Radical Jack." The superintendent was coming down the road.
He told me some int