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Updated: June 2, 2025
They were of the simplest description, such as picks made of stag-horn and heavy stone hammers, all alike bearing marks of long service. Similar results were obtained in England. Canon Greenwell explored near Brandon, in Suffolk, a series of 254 shafts, known in the neighborhood as Grime's Graves.
It was through him that information of the intended run the other night was obtained, and he also discovered one of the smugglers' hiding-places, `Grime's Mill, and was the means of enabling the revenue-men to capture a considerable store of their contraband goods." Sir Reginald smiled.
How the fire originated no one could tell, but I suspected that one of the men had lit his pipe, and that the ashes had fallen out upon some loose grains of powder. We, as well as the revenue-men, had a narrow escape from being crushed by the ruins which fell close to us. Such was the end of Old Grime's mill.
For a pick he used a red-deer's antler. In the British Museum is to be seen one of these with the miner's thumb-mark stamped on a piece of clay sticking to the handle. His lamp was a cup of chalk. His ladder was probably a series of rough steps cut in the sides of the pit. As regards the use to which the material was put, a neolithic workshop was found just to the south of Grime's Graves.
Nor has Grime's corps, the right wing, done anything except meditate: it stood there unattacked, unattacking; till deep in the dark night, when Rutowski remembered it, and sent it order to come home.
A prisoner in the vault The headless miller I continue my explorations My perilous position My further attempts at escape The recess An unexpected shower-bath A glimpse of light I escape from the vault, but not from prison A lower chamber in Old Grime's mill The result of my further endeavours to escape My signal of distress The Revenue-men My rescue The search for the smugglers' goods My hunger relieved On guard Meeting with my father The last of old Grime's mill.
And thereupon she gave them such an account of my father as made them look more regardfully on me; and so Mother Grime's testimony turned the scale, and took me off from walking the rounds with the watch that night.
When Canon Greenwell, in 1870, explored in this neighbourhood one of the neolithic flint-mines known as Grime's Graves, he had to dig out the rubbish from a former funnel-shaped pit some forty feet deep. Down at this level, it appeared, the neolithic worker had found the layer of the best flint. This he quarried by means of narrow galleries in all directions.
"So, I am no heiress. I have lost all my money, and am quite poor. He knows it knew it a long time ago, and did not tell me. Why did he not tell me, I wonder?" Here was a pause. For a moment she felt inclined to doubt the fact itself; truthful people have little suspicion of chicanery or falsehood, and when she came to think, innumerable circumstances confirmed Grime's statement.
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