No’ when ye live aff coal. There’s wimmen keepin’ hoose in the places the coal goes that pay fur their coal wi’ brass. We pay a sicht heavier fur it here. We pay wi’ the lives o’ men. POLLY But it’s a comfort tae think he’ll no’ be burnt. A cannae staun’ a corp that’s burnt. ELLEN Aye, better broken than burnt. POLLY An’ ye’ll huv money in the funeral Society. ELLEN Oh, aye. A can gie him a decent burial. POLLY That’s ay a comfort. Ye don’t seem tae care sae much some wey, when ye ken he’s hud a decent burial. He’s bin a guid son tae ye, tae. ELLEN Oh aye, he’s a good lad. He’s mebbe had his shillin’ on a horse noo and then an’ whiles gone rattin’ on a Sunday mornin’, but that’s only tae say he’s a man an’ no’ an angel in breeks. POLLY It’s mair than A can say about ma lot. Lazy, drunken, good-for-nothings they are, faither an’ sons tae. Come tae mention’t, it’s a funny thing. Providence works in its ain way. If mine hadnae been on the spree last nicht, they’d as like as no huv been in the cage alang wi your boy. MARY (comes forward into the room) A’ll awa’ tae the pit noo, auntie. ELLEN Tak’ yer hurry, lass. MARY A cannae wait, A must ken. ELLEN Sit doon. MARY A cannae sit doon an’ listen tae you twa talkin’ that way. First ye’ve got ‘im kill’t an’ then ye bury ‘im, an’ next ye’ll be argying whit’s tae go on his grave-stane an’ aw the time ye don’t sae much as ken if he’s hurt. POLLY Sit still, lassie. Ye’d better wait. MARY. Oh, A don’t know whit ye’re made o’-you twa. Ye sit there quiet an’ calm as if there wis naethin’ the maitter. ELLEN We’re auld enough tae ken we cannae dae nae guid. Hae ye made the bed? Aye, ELLEN Weel, there’s a bottle o’ brandy in the room-press. We micht need it. Aye. It’s harder when ye’re young tae haud yersel’ in. It disnae come natural tae her, no’ bein’ born tae pits like us. Her mither mairret a weaver chap in Dundee an’ brought her up tae mills. It tak’s mair than a year or twa tae git intae the wey o’ pits when ye’re born strange tae them. POLLY Aye. We’re used tae the thocht o’ losin’ oor men suddent. ELLEN