an organisation by which their
instruction could be continued without him. In this he was quite successful. A
man known among the butties as Pack, who had already been mentioned by Mr Chubb,
presently joined the party, and had a private audience of Mr Johnson, that he
might be instituted as the shepherd of this new flock.
    »That's a right down genelman,« said Pack, as he took the seat vacated by
the orator, who had ridden away.
    »What's his trade, think you?« said Gills, the wiry stone-cutter.
    »Trade?« said Mr Chubb. »He's one of the top-sawyers of the country. He
works with his head, you may see that.«
    »Let's have our pipes, then,« said Old Sleek; »I'm pretty well tired o'
jaw.«
    »So am I,« said Dredge. »It's wriggling work - like follering a stoat. It
makes a man dry. I'd as lief hear preaching, on'y there's nought to be got by't.
I shouldn't know which end I stood on if it wasn't for the tickets and the
treatin'.«
 

                                   Chapter 12

            »Oh, sir, 'twas that mixture of spite and over- fed merriment which
            passes for humour with the vulgar. In their fun they have much
            resemblance to a turkey-cock. It has a cruel beak, and a silly
            iteration of ugly sounds; it spreads its tail in self-glorification,
            but shows you the wrong side of that ornament - liking admiration,
            but knowing not what is admirable.«
 
This Sunday evening, which promised to be so memorable in the experience of the
Sproxton miners, had its drama also for those unsatisfactory objects to Mr
Johnson's moral sense, the Debarrys. Certain incidents occurring at Treby Manor
caused an excitement there which spread from the dining-room to the stables; but
no one underwent such agitating transitions of feeling as Mr Scales. At six
o'clock that superior butler was chuckling in triumph at having played a fine
and original practical joke on his rival Mr Christian. Some two hours after that
time, he was frightened, sorry, and even meek; he was on the brink of a
humiliating confession; his cheeks were almost livid; his hair was flattened for
want of due attention from his fingers; and the fine roll of his whiskers, which
was too firm to give way, seemed only a sad reminiscence of past splendour and
felicity.