Then the whole process was gone through to the smallest minutiae, and only an hour after the silvered face of the mirror was deluged with rain-water, and uncle and nephew gazed in triumph at their work, for there was no sign of greyish-drab powder about the mirror, and it was so bright that polishing seemed unnecessary.
The next day it was polished, till by a side light it looked black, while in face it was a brilliant looking-glass ready to reflect the faintest stars; and after being put away securely, the great tube was set about, and in due time this was lightly and strongly made of long laths hooped together. A shallow tray was contrived deep enough to hold the speculum, and fitted with screws, so that it could be secured to one end. Next followed the fitting of a properly-constructed eye-piece from a London optician, contrived so that it looked at right angles into a small reflector, which also had to be carefully fixed in the axis of the great speculum.
Chapter Thirty Two.
“What’s the matter, Tom?” said Uncle Richard one day, as they were busy at work over the telescope, and Tom was scratching his head.
“There’s nothing the matter, uncle, only I’m a bit puzzled.”
“What about?”
“Over this great glass. It’s going to be so different to the old one.”
“Of course; that is a refractor, and this is going to be a reflector.”