All was up with Richard Tanner - 
   "Wait-a-Bit" we called him. Dead? 
Yes. The braceman dropped a spanner, 
   Landed Richard on the head; 
Cracked his skull, sir, like a tea-cup, 
   Down the pump-shaft in the well.
Braceman hadn't time to speak up, 
   Tanner never knew what fell. 


When we fetched him to the surface
  Dick had struck, and got a rise -
See how dark that patch of turn is! -
   There he bled before our eyes.
And we stood around him, gory
   Like himself, and just as pale,
Wondering who would tell the story,
   Who would tell his wife the tale.


No one liked to undertake it,
   No one on the shift would stir; 
But Pat Ryan said he'd break it - 
   "Nately break the news to her." 
Pat's a splitter, and a kinder 
   Heart I never want to know. 
Stephens told him where to find her, 
   Begged him gently deal the blow. 


In a very solemn manner 
   Ryan met the dead man's wife - 
"Mornin’ to yez, Widdy Tanner!" 
   Says he gravely, "Such is life!" 
"I'm no widow!" says she, prying 
   For the joke in Ryan's eye. 
"'Scuse me, mum," says Paddy, sighing, 
   "'Scuse me, mum, but that's a lie." 

"E.D."
The Bulletin, 2 April 1892, p12

Note:
This poem was published in substantially different form in Dyson's poetry collection Rhymes From the Mines and Other Lines.