His landlord invited us over for a cup of tea, and mentioned the silver mine in his back garden. A silver mine? I wanna go in! And Stephen, the landlord, didn’t mind. And now the day had come when we would indeed descend that shaft and find out if there was anything in there. I had ensnared Lionel, as I figured chances of us finding something were slim, and two suffices for dropping down and climbing back up. But Finbar wouldn’t let such fun pass him by, and neither would Dave, so we ended up with four. That is a lot of caver for a small cottage, but nothing our hosts wouldn't be able to cope with!
Stephen and Bill gave us a warm welcome, and Stephen walked us through his garden, where there was not only this shaft, but also the remains of a stack, a flywheel pit, an engine house, a possible dressing floor, and lots of mine waste in tips. While we were admiring all that Stephen’s wife was already yelling at us: “can I go down too?”. How she had managed to live there for 20 and suppress her desire to hurl herself down is a mystery.