“Then there’s sugar of lead.”
“I’d like that!” cried Eddy, smacking his lips at the idea of a sweetmeat.
“Would you, my little man? But it would not like you. Sugar of lead is that metal dissolved in spirit of vinegar; and that, you must know, makes it a poison.”
“Well,” said Lily, “I always considered lead as a dull, heavy metal, fit for nothing but making water-pipes.”
“My book would tell you a different tale. Why, you forget black lead pencils, and the types used in printing. It is employed also in making clear glass, the varnish on china, and beautiful white paint, for all that it looks so dull! Then, it’s so odd to think that from mixing some metals together you can get quite a new one! Look at the bright brass rods upon which the curtains are hung; brass is a mixture of copper and zinc.”
“They look like gold!” cried Eddy, looking up. “What do people mix to make gold?”
“You funny little philosopher,” said George, playfully tapping his brother on the cheek, “that’s the very question which for ages puzzled the brains of the learned. They wanted to discover some way to mix up metals and make gold. Even the wonderful Sir Isaac Newton was very anxious to find it out! Men were always searching and searching for what they called ‘the philosopher’s stone;’ and they read old books, and looked at the stars, as if they could see the secret written there; and they kept up fires for years and years, and mixed together all sorts of things; and some spent all their money, and some all their lives, in trying to find out how to make gold!”
“And never found out at last?” inquired Lily.
“It was like running after a rainbow, that searching for the philosopher’s stone. But look at Eddy; he is yawning. He is not quite a Sir Isaac Newton yet; so I think, Lily, that we had best shut the book, and be off for a game at hide-and-seek!”