“Glad to know you; I’m sure we shall be very good friends;” and then he hurried away, and the others closed the gate and went into the workshop, where the speculum was waiting to be ground.
“You’ll like Mr Maxted,” said Uncle Richard quietly. “A thorough, true-hearted gentleman, who preserves all the best of his boyhood; but come now, work.”
“Grinding?” said Tom, stripping off his jacket.
“Not yet—elutriation, Tom,” said Uncle Richard, as he led the way up to the laboratory, where the big pan was lifted down upon the stool, and the syphon used to pour the water in the white basin back again.
But not quite all. It was clear now, and at the bottom there was just a film of chocolate mud, which was most carefully trickled off with some of the water into the ready labelled little bottle.
“There, Tom, that tiny spoonful or two of paste is our finest emery, and valuable in the extreme—to us. The next thing is to get a grade coarser.”
“The same way?” said Tom.
“Nearly. Stir the whole up again.”
This was carefully done, but there was no scum now.
“We left the other sixty minutes, Tom,” said Uncle Richard; “this time we’ll leave it thirty minutes. Come along; time for two quarter-hour grinds at the speculum.”