[Illustration: _Lady Driver (just joined)_. "OH, SERGEANT, I HOPE I SHAN'T UPSET MY FIRST PASSENGER!"
_Sergeant (A.S.C., M.T.)._ "PASSENGER, MISS! DON'T LET THAT WORRY YOU. PLENTY MORE PASSENGERS!"]
["If the husband's hours are reduced to six that gives the wife a chance. The home and the children are as much his as hers. With his enlarged leisure he will now be able to take a fair share in home duties."
Jock Mackay was a lusty soul; He earned his livelihood winning coal; Black with grime, all huddled and bent, A third of his life in the pit he spent; A third he slept and a third he slacked Training the whippet his fancy backed, Or talking strikes with a fervent zest In the bar of the neighbouring "Miners' Rest."
Jean Mackay was his wife; her day Started or ever the dawn was grey; She lit the fire, she shook the mats, She frizzled the bacon and dressed the brats, She darned and mended, she made the beds, She combed the tugs in the tousled heads, She knitted the socks, she washed and baked Till every bone in her body ached; She toiled and moiled in a non-stop fight From six in the morning till ten at night.
But there dawned a day when Jock Mackay Came home from the mine with a dancing eye And a laugh in his heart, and he cried out, "Jean, 'Tis the grandest day that the warl' has seen! The lads are a' cheerin' and rinnin' fey, For the Government's gien us the sax-hour day."
Jean stopped scrubbing. "Is't true?" said she; "I wish ye luck. But bide a wee. Noo that the battle is owre an' done, What will ye dae wi' the hours ye've won?"
"What will I dae wi' them? What I like. I'll tak' a bit turn wi' my wee bit tyke, Or call for a crack wi' the lads at the "Rest," And mebbe I micht tak' a drap, if pressed."
"That's a' vera weel, but bide a bit. Ye work sax hours a day in your pit, But I'd hae ye to bear in mind," said Jean, "While ye work sax I work saxteen."
Jock scratched his head. "Ay, lass, that's sae. Aweel, an' what would ye hae me dae?"
"Fair does," she answered; "it's only fair That ye should be takin' your ain just share, An' help me in keepin' the hame for a spell In the extry hours that ye've got to yoursel', Sae, while I'm scrubbin' the floor," she said, "Ye micht be pittin' the bairns tae bed." Jock laughed. "I doot there's somethin' in it; I'll stairt on my duties this verra minute."