You have lived in this mine, which your hands have emptied.
The work has been hard, but not without profit for you.
Our great family must disperse, and it is not probable
that the future will ever again unite the scattered members.
But do not forget that we have lived together for a long time,
and that it will be the duty of the miners of Aberfoyle to help
each other. Your old masters will not forget you either.
When men have worked together, they must never be stranger
to each other again.
We shall keep our eye on you, and wherever you go,
our recommendations shall follow you. Farewell then, my friends,
and may Heaven be with you!"
So saying, James Starr wrung the horny hand of the oldest miner,
whose eyes were dim with tears. Then the overmen of the different
pits came forward to shake hands with him, whilst the miners
waved their caps, shouting, "Farewell, James Starr, our master
and our friend!"
This farewell would leave a lasting remembrance in all these
honest hearts. Slowly and sadly the population quitted the yard.
The black soil of the roads leading to the Dochart pit resounded
for the last time to the tread of miners' feet, and silence
succeeded to the bustling life which had till then filled
the Aberfoyle mines.
One man alone remained by James Starr. This was the overman,
Simon Ford. Near him stood a boy, about fifteen years of age,
who for some years already had been employed down below.
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