Never you mind. One sees a mort o' life in my trade. Not for coals it
isn't. And I don't carry 'em there, neither. Anyhow, I comes back.
London's my mark. Says I, I'll see a bit o' the sea, and steps aboard a
collier. We were as nigh wrecked as the prophet Paul."

"--A--who's him?" the other wished to know.

"Read your Bible," said the tinker. "We pitched and tossed--'tain't that
game at sea 'tis on land, I can tell ye! I thinks, down we're a-going--
say your prayers, Bob Tiles! That was a night, to be sure! But God's
above the devil, and here I am, ye see." Speed-the-Plough lurched round
on his elbow and regarded him indifferently. "D'ye call that doctrin'?
He bean't al'ays, or I shoo'n't be scrapin' my heels wi' nothin' to do,
and, what's warse, nothin' to eat. Why, look heer. Luck's luck, and bad
luck's the con-trary. Varmer Bollop, t'other day, has's rick burnt down.
Next night his gran'ry's burnt. What do he tak' and go and do? He takes
and goes and hangs unsel', and turns us out of his employ. God warn't
above the devil then, I thinks, or I can't make out the reckonin'."

The tinker cleared his throat, and said it was a bad case.

"And a darn'd bad case. I'll tak' my oath on't!" cried Speed-the-Plough.
"Well, look heer! Heer's another darn'd bad case. I threshed for Varmer
Blaize Blaize o' Beltharpe afore I goes to Varmer Bollop. Varmer Blaize
misses pilkins. He swears our chaps steals pilkins. 'Twarn't me steals
'em. What do he tak' and go and do? He takes and tarns us off, me and
another, neck and crop, to scuffle about and starve, for all he keers.
God warn't above the devil then, I thinks. Not nohow, as I can see!"

The tinker shook his head, and said that was a bad case also.