than of some of the human inhabitants: no animal could lend itself better to so strange a service as that of the coal-pits. Mr Brydon estimates that “it is not overstating the case to say that, on an average, they will travel over 3000 miles in the course of a year, and ‘shift’ as many tons of coal.”[49] A considerable sentimental repugnance exists to the employment of ponies below ground; and to the unaccustomed such a life appears sufficiently unattractive either to man or horse; but the fact remains that the life is not on the whole unhealthy: if it lacks the summer sun it is spared the winter nights. The fable that the ponies become blind has no better foundation than is given by the fact that a short time is required to accustom their eyes to the light when they return to the surface. They are no doubt exposed to accidents; and they are less protected against overwork and other unfair treatment than they should be; though this is partly rectified by the provisions of the “Mines Act” of 1911. It is only right to say plainly that the general accusation that has been made of cruel treatment of the ponies in the pits is an entirely unjust libel upon a class of men who, whatever their failings may be, are not inhumane. In point of fact, the ponies in the pit are usually sleek, fat, and contented, and display an affection for their attendants, and a confidence in man, not easily to be reconciled with the suggestion that they are habitually maltreated. [Illustration: _By permission of the Proprietors of ‘Punch.’_ A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK.]