“And thicker and thicker,” said the Vicar, as the contents of the jar were well shaken up, and then quickly poured into the tray.
“Now, Tom, the glass,” said Uncle Richard sharply; and, taking a couple of little pieces of wood, he placed them in the tray at the sides, and then seizing the piece of broken glass speculum with the tips of the fingers of each hand, he quickly immersed the polished face in the fourfold solution, letting one side go in first, and then the rest of the face, till the glass rested about half an inch deep in the tray, its face being perfectly covered all over.
“Now watch,” continued the lecturer; “the magic change has commenced, the metallic silver is forming,” and as he spoke he kept on rocking the glass to and fro upon the two bits of wood.
“Why, it has turned all of a dirty black,” said Tom, “and as thick as thick,” as the rocking went on. “Why are you doing that, uncle?”
“So as to make a regular film come all over, and cause all the solution to be in motion, and give up its silver,” was the reply.
“Is it a failure, Brandon?” said the Vicar quietly.
“I hope not,” said Uncle Richard; “but of course I am a perfect novice at this sort of thing. It does look though as if I had made a mess instead of a grand experiment.”
“Yes, the water has turned pretty inky and thick.”
“Hurrah!” shouted Tom enthusiastically; and he caught up a duster and began to wave it in the air.
“What is it, Tom?”