Tom ran up into the laboratory, and brought down four great stoppered bottles, each of which bore a label duly lettered.
These he placed on the broad, table-like bench, and on being requested hurried up-stairs again to fetch a large glass jar-shaped vessel, and a graduated measuring-glass.
“Now,” said Uncle Richard, “this process is a chemical experiment, but upon reading it I felt that it was as good as a conjuring trick, and a very grand one too. In fact it is good enough for a magician, for it is a wonderful example of the way in which our chemists have mastered some of the secrets of Nature.”
“Bravo, lecturer!” said the Vicar. “Come, Tom, my boy, give him some applause. Clap your hands and stamp your feet;” and the visitor led off by thumping his umbrella upon the floor.
“Oh, very well,” said Uncle Richard, laughing; “it shall be a lecture on silver if you like—a very brief one, with a remarkable experiment to follow.”
“More applause, Tom,” said the Vicar; and it was given laughingly.
“I have here,” continued Uncle Richard, “immersed in distilled water—”
“Rain-water, uncle.”
“Well, boy, rain-water is distilled by Nature, and then condensed from the vapoury clouds to fall back upon the earth.”
“Good,” said the Vicar. “I am learning.”