“And this?” said Mr Temple.
“Granite, sir.”
“Eight; and this?”
“Gneiss,” replied Will.
“Quite correct. Now this,” he continued, breaking a piece of stone in two with his hammer.
“Cop—no, only mundic,” cried Will, who had nearly been caught tripping.
“Right again. Now this?”
He picked up a reddish piece of stone which, when broken, showed bright clear crystals, and close to the ruddy stone a number of little black grains.
“Tin,” cried Will eagerly; “and a rich piece.”
“Let me look at the tin,” cried Arthur eagerly; and the piece being handed to him, “where?” he cried; “there’s no tin here.”