It was weel enough for me, and others like me, who'd been able to put by a bit siller, and could afford to do wi'oot our wages for a space.

But it was black tragedy for Jamie and his wife and bairn.
Still ye'll be wonderin' how I was reminded of all this at Montrose, where Mac and I showed how bad we were at gowf! Weel, it was there I saw Jamie Lowden again, and heard how he had come through the time of the strike.

I'll tell the tale myself; you may depend on't that I'm giving it to ye straight, as I had it from the man himself.
His wife, lying sick in her bed, always asked Jamie the same question when he came in from a meeting.
"Is there ony settlement yet, Jamie ?" she would say.
"Not yet," he had to answer, time after time.

"The masters are rich and proud.

They say they can afford to keep the pits, closed.