University of Virginia Library

Thus then we waited at the pit's rude mouth,
Silent, or gossiping of work and wage,
Of friends and neighbours: and the wind blew south,
And still we sat to windward of the shaft,
Clear of its smoke and fume. But presently
Our blue-eyed Marie stretch'd her arms, and laugh'd
To see Louise a-yawning; “Ah,” said she,
“If we was down among the ways again,
Thou wouldna need to yawn!” “I wish I was,”
Cried plump Louise. “Aye, lasses, I am fain
To win myself a bigger stint o' brass
Nor what they give up here.” “And so am I,”
Said Victorine. “If e'er I get a chance,
Oh, won't I wear the bretelles joyfully,
As once I did, and make my crampons dance
Along the fourfoot, with a load behind
As heavy as the best!” But Angélique,
Who had not work'd below, and in her mind
Dreaded the fearful darkness and the reek
Of that great shaft, descending under ground
To depths wherein she pictured to herself
A thousand horrors, both of sight and sound,
And pranks of many a goblin, many an elf—
Fair Angélique, half-shudder'd as they spoke:
She said, “I should be fear'd to work below;
I'd liefer bide, and do a double stroke
Wi' these here corves, and let the big wage go!
You're upright here, you dunna need to crawl,
And draw like beastes on the common road.”
The others laugh'd: “You'd easy do it all,”
Said they. “You trot along afore your load,
Wi' some one else behind; an' after that,
You just sit down, and rest an' sing a bit,
Until you're wanted.” “Aye, I got quite fat,”
Said plump Louise, “when I was in the pit;
It's warm and dry, too; and there comes no breeze,
Like this up here, nor rain to wet your things;
But in between, a wench can sit at ease
And maybe, some one by her while she sings!”
“And I remember,” quoth stout Victorine,
“One day our Gaffer brought a stranger down
To see the workings; he was rare an' clean,
And seem'd to be a Monsieur from the town.
He stared, to see us with our bretelles on,
Our breeches, and our singlets, and our caps;
‘And,’ says the Gaffer, ‘Monsieur will have done
The wisest thing, if he could lie, perhaps,
Within this charrette, and a maiden here
Shall draw him safely to the getting place.’
So Monsieur got inside it; but oh dear,
How awkwardly he managed! For the space
Was scarce enough to hold him, in my wain.
Then, Gaffer Louis told him to be sure
And guard his head, and give himself the pain
To keep it down, if he would ride secure
From the low roof and every sacking door;
And then he call'd me up, and harness'd me.
Well—I set off, a-wondering more and more
How light my load was, and how easily
I went, wi' that strange burden at my heels.
But when I'd draw'd him fairly to the end,
And the roof rose, I back'd against my wheels,
And loosed myself, and stood upright, to lend
A hand to Monsieur, for to help him out.
Eh, what a taking he was in, poor man!
He seem'd surprised, to see me just as stout
And fresh, as when I started; he began
Saying, ‘Ma fille, tu es un bon cheval!’
And slapp'd me on the shoulder. Well, I smiled;
‘Monsieur,’ says I, ‘je suis un animal
Tout à votre service.’ Then says he, ‘My child,
A ride like this is worth a franc at least:
Take it, and let me grasp thy hand again;
For thou art nobler than the noblest beast,
In being such a woman.’ Yes! and then
He clasp'd my hand; but oh, it made me start,
To feel how soft his slender fingers was,
And how unlike my own. I scarce had heart
To thank him for his money; and alas,
The Gaffer come, and so I daredna speak.”
The damsels titter'd, at this uncouth tale
Of female prowess; all, save Angélique;
Behind her mask of coal-dust, she grew pale,
And said she never never could have dared
To do a thing like that. Why not? said they;
It was her place; for Victorine was spared
From Gaffer Louis' gang: she must obey,
And do the work he gave her; and beside,
The Monsieur weigh'd but little, as she said.