Dotty stood still and gazed.

“Horace,” she whispered, “my conscience tells me they are niggroes.”

“Then, dear, your conscience has made a mistake; they are white men when they are clean.”

Mr. Clifford went up to one of the men, and asked if himself and the little people, might have an inside view of the mine.  The man smiled a black and white smile, which Dotty thought was horrible, and said,—­

“O, yes, sir; come on.”

There was a large platform lying over the top like a trap-door, and through this platform was drawn a large rope.  Grace and Cassy both screamed as they stood upon the planks, and caught Mr. Clifford by the arms.

Dotty was not afraid; she liked the excitement.  The men said it was as safe as going down cellar, and she believed them.

But she was not exactly prepared for the strange, wild, dizzy sensation in her head when they began to sink down, down into the earth.  It was delightful.  “It seemed like being swung very high in the air,” she said, “only it was just as different, too, as it could be.”

The men had live torches in their caps, which startled the dark mine with gleams of light and strange black shadows.

“I don’t feel as if I was in this world,” cried Dotty, with a sensation of awe, and catching Grace by the arm to make sure she was near some one who had warm flesh and blood.  After this emotion had passed, she went around by herself, and explored the mine carefully, telling no one what she was seeking.  There was the blackest of coal and the darkest of earth in abundance; but Dotty Dimple did not find a gold ring, nor anything which looked more like it than two blind mules.  These poor animals lived in the mines, and hauled coal.  They had once possessed as good eyes as mules need ask for; but, living where there was nothing but darkness to be seen, and no sunlight to see it by, pray what did they need of eyesight?

“Cassy,” said Grace, “don’t you remember, when we were children, we used to say we meant some time to live together and keep house?  Suppose we try it here.  We might have gas-light, you know, and all our food could be brought down on a dumb waiter.”

“Yes,” said Cassy, who was very fond of sleep; “and we needn’t ever get up in the morning.”

“No skeetos,” suggested Dotty.

“Men have lived in the earth sometimes,” said Horace.  “There was St. Dunstan; his cell was hardly large enough to stand in—­was it, father?  And sometimes he stood in water all night, and sang psalms.”

“What was that for, Uncle Edward?”

“He was trying to please God.”

“But uncle, I don’t believe God liked it.”

“The man was, no doubt, insane, dear.  But his perseverance in doing what he thought right was something grand.  Now suppose, children, we ascend and see what is going on atop of the earth.”

“I’m glad we didn’t always have to stay in that black hole,” said Dotty, catching her breath as they were drawn up.