Part 25 (1/2)

”Never mind,” said Uncle d.i.c.k. ”I daresay we shall get the fellows to understand in time that we are their friends and not their enemies.”

”Yes,” said Uncle Jack; ”they are better. I dare say it will all come right in time.”

It was soon after this that I went into the grinding-shop one day while the men were at dinner, and going to the door that opened into the wheel chamber, which always had a fascination for me, I stood gazing down into its depths and listening to the splas.h.i.+ng water.

”Iver try to ketch any o' them long eels, Mester Jacob?” said a familiar voice; and, starting and looking back, I saw that Gentles, the fat little grinder, was sitting down close to his wet grindstone eating his dinner, and cutting it with a newly ground knife blade forged out of our new steel.

”Eels, Gentles!” I said. ”I didn't know there were any there.”

”Oh, but there are,” he said; ”straange big 'uns. You set a line with a big bait on, and you'll soon hev one.”

”What, down there by the wheel?”

”Ay, or oop i' the dam. Plenty o' eels, lad, theer.”

”I'll have a try,” I said eagerly, for the idea of catching one or two of the creatures was attractive.

From that I got talking to the man about his work, and he promised to let me have a few turns at grinding.

”On'y, what am I to say if thee coots theesen?” he cried with a chuckle.

”Oh, but you'll show me how to do it without!” I said laughing.

”Nay, but what's good o' thee wanting to grind? Want to tak' work out o' poor men's hands?”

”Nonsense!” I cried angrily. ”Why, Gentles, you know better than that.

All I want is to understand thoroughly how it is done, so that I can talk to the men about their work, and show them if it isn't right.”

”Oh!” he said in a curious tone of voice. ”Well, you coom any time when watter-wheel's going, and I'll show thee all that I know. 'Tain't much.

Keeps men fro' starving.”

”Why, Gentles,” I cried; ”you drew three pounds five last week, and I saw you paid.”

”Three pun' five! Did I?” he said. ”Ah, but that was a partic'lar good week. I've got a missus and a lot o' bairns to keep, and times is very bad, mester.”

”I'm sorry for it,” I said; and I went away and had a look in the books as soon as I reached the office, to find that Master Gentles never drew less than three pounds a-week; but I did not remind him of it, and during the next few days he very civilly showed me how his work was done--that is, the knack of holding and turning the blades, so that I rapidly acquired the way, and was too busy to notice the peculiar looks I received from the other men.

Of course I know how that I was a mere bungler, and clumsy, and slow in the extreme; but at the time I felt as if I must be very clever, and there was something very satisfactory in seeing a blackened hammered blade fresh from the forge turn bright and clean in my hands, while the edge grew sharp and even.

It was playing with edged tools with a vengeance, but I did not understand it then.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

PANNELL'S SECRET.

Every day the works grew more busy, and prosperity seemed to be coming upon us like suns.h.i.+ne. The men worked steadily and well, and the old opposition had apparently died out; but all the same the watching was kept up as regularly as if it was during war time, though, saving an occasional burst of barking from Piter, who used to have these fits apparently without cause, there was nothing to alarm the watchers.

It was my turn at home, and I was up early the next morning, wondering how Uncle Jack and Uncle Bob had got on during the night, when I came down and found Mrs Stephenson and Martha the maid enjoying themselves.