“Let’s both try,” he said, and getting their fingers down, they lifted out something exceedingly heavy, and bore it to a stout bench. “Now for the other,” said Uncle Richard; and after removing more straw, a second package was seen precisely like the first, which on being taken out and opened, proved to be a great solid disc of ground-glass made fairly smooth but quite opaque.
“Bravo! quite sound,” cried Uncle Richard. “Now the other.”
This proved also to have borne the journey well, and Tom looked from the two great discs to his uncle.
“Well,” said the latter; “do you see what these are for?”
“To grind flour much finer?”
“To grind grandmothers, boy! Nonsense! Not to grind, but to be ground. Out of those Tom, you and I have to make a speculum of tremendous power.”
“A looking-glass, sir?” said Tom, feeling rather depressed at his uncle’s notion. For what could a sensible man want with looking-glasses made round, and weighing about a hundredweight each?
“Yes, a looking-glass, boy, for the sun and moon, and Jupiter, Venus, Mars, Saturn, and the rest to see their faces in, or for us to see them. I can’t afford to give five or six hundred pounds for a telescope, so you and I will make a monster.”
“Telescope!” cried Tom, as scales seemed to fall from before his eyes. “Oh, I see!”
“Well, didn’t you see before?”