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Here sat the
colliers in their pit-dirt. They had come up early. The women and
children usually loitered about on the red gravel paths. Paul always
examined the grass border, and the big grass bank, because in it grew
tiny pansies and tiny forget-me-nots. There was a sound of many voices.
The women had on their Sunday hats. The girls chattered loudly. Little
dogs ran here and there. The green shrubs were silent all around.
Then from inside came the cry "Spinney Park--Spinney Park." All the folk
for Spinney Park trooped inside. When it was time for Bretty to be paid,
Paul went in among the crowd. The pay-room was quite small. A counter
went across, dividing it into half. Behind the counter stood two
men--Mr. Braithwaite and his clerk, Mr. Winterbottom. Mr. Braithwaite
was large, somewhat of the stern patriarch in appearance, having a
rather thin white beard. He was usually muffled in an enormous silk
neckerchief, and right up to the hot summer a huge fire burned in the
open grate. No window was open.


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