(Stands off, and looks at his work.) Again the missionary of health plants his victorious banner on a giant bowlder, that shall forever point the westward hoers to the fountain of health. (Sets down pail, and looks at his hands.) A fountain of water would be more to my taste just now: the handle of that pail is in a bad condition, but I'll fix it. (Takes a newspaper from his pocket, and wraps it round handle while speaking.) Big scheme of Busted to spread his balm all over the continent, from Switcham, Vt., to the top of the Sierra Nevadas. Such outward applications of the infallible awaken curiosity, curiosity stirs the sluggish brain to action, the active brain arouses the torpid system, and health re-animates the sinking frame. For further particulars see small bills. That M's a little shaky; I'll touch it up a little, or some of these hardy miners will take it for a bad spell: and, being so choice in their language, that would never do. (Works with brush. Sings),—
Oh! here's to good old Busted.
(Enter from cabin Mother Merton, with broom.)
Mother. Who on earth is that howling?
Silas (sings),—
Write him down,
Mother. A stranger! What's he doing to that rock?
Silas (sings),—
Oh! here's to good old Busted.
Mother. Busted! I do believe he's trying to blast it right before my door—blow us all up. (Brings broom down on his back smartly.) Here, stop that!