when men are comin' hame frae their work," and he went on with his
splashing. "Here, gi'e my back a rub," and he lay over the tub while she
washed his back from the shoulders downward, making it clean and free
from the coal dust and grime. Then she proceeded to dry him all over
with a rough towel, after which he put on a clean shirt, and taking off
his pit trousers, stepped into the tub and began to wash his lower limbs
and make them as clean as the upper part of the body.

"Ach, folk should ha'e a place to wash in anyway," he grumbled, as if to
justify his outburst, for secretly he was beginning to feel ashamed of
it. "The folk that ha'e the maist need o' a bath are the folk wha never
get the chance o' yin," he went on. "Look at that chap wha was in the
noo. He never needs to dirty a finger, an' look at the hoose he has to
bide in, wi' its fine bathroom an' a' things that he needs. Och, but we
are a silly lot o' blockheads!" And so he raved on till he sat down to
his frugal dinner of potatoes and buttermilk, after which he relapsed
into silence again, and sat reading a newspaper.

It was in this mood that Robert found him when he returned from the
moors. Nellie had noticed that something was worrying her husband, and
she suspected some fresh trouble at the pit, though she asked no
questions.

"Where hae ye been?" asked Geordie very calmly, as Robert entered
furtively, and sat down on a chair near to the door. The boy did not
answer. He dreaded that calmness. He seemed to feel there was something
strong, cruel and relentless behind it. But he had something of his
father's nature in him, so he sat in silence.

"What kind o' conduct's this I hear ye've been up to?" was the next