'God forgive you that heartless word! Do you know--? But no; you don't
know what you are saying. You don't know that these men have been
clambering for dear life out of a fearful pit for three months past, and
doing good climbing too, poor chaps. You don't think that some of them
have wives, most of them mothers and sisters, in the east or across the
sea, for whose sake they are slaving here; the miners hoping to save
enough to bring their families to this homeless place, the rest to make
enough to go back with credit. Why, there's Nixon, miner, splendid chap;
has been here for two years, and drawing the highest pay. Twice he has
been in sight of his heaven, for he can't speak of his wife and babies
without breaking up, and twice that slick son of the devil--that's
Scripture, mind you--Slavin, got him, and "rolled" him, as the boys say.
He went back to the mines broken in body and in heart. He says this is
his third and last chance. If Slavin gets him, his wife and babies will
never see him on earth or in heaven. There is Sandy, too, and the rest.
And,' he added, in a lower tone, and with the curious little thrill of
pathos in his voice, 'this is the day the Saviour came to the world.'
He paused, and then with a little sad smile, 'But I don't want to abuse
you.'

'Do, I enjoy it, I'm a beast, a selfish beast'; for somehow his intense,
blazing earnestness made me feel uncomfortably small.

'What have we to offer?' I demanded.

'Wait till I have got these things cleared away, and my housekeeping
done.'

I pressed my services upon him, somewhat feebly, I own, for I can't bear
dishwater; but he rejected my offer.