Clifford.—Pooh! If you will give me a large smooth white pebble, such as is called by my geological friends here quartz, but which you know better, I believe, by the name of a chucky-stane, I’ll make some capital soup out of it in a very few minutes.
Landlady.—Odd, sir, I’m thinkin’ ye’ll be clever an ye can do that.
Clifford.—Be quick, then, and fetch me such a stone as I have described. Remember it must be quite clean, and large enough to make soup for four gentlemen,—and recollect that we are very hungry.
Landlady (entering with a stone in one hand).—There it is. It’s quite clean, for I washed it wi’ my ain hands.
Clifford.—So, that is all right. Now, fetch me a pan with clean water in it. Oh, you have it there, I see. Well, put in the stone, and put the pan on the fire. Now, you see, my good woman, I am a pupil of old Willox the Warlock, therefore you need not be astonished at anything I do. Go get me a spoon to taste the soup with. (Whilst her back is turned, slyly dropping a cake or two of portable soup into the pot.) Aye, now, let me see; taste it yourself. It already begins to have some flavour.
Landlady (astonished).—Have a care o’ huz a’, so it has!
Clifford (stirring it).—But, stay a moment; taste it now!
Landlady (taking a spoonful of it).—Keep me, that is just awthegither maygics indeed!
Clifford (tasting it).—Oh, it will do now. Bring me an iron spoon to take out the stone with. Now, here take it away, dry it well, and lock it carefully up in your larder; for, you perceive, that it is but very little wasted, and, consequently, it will make some good tureens of soup yet; and though such stones are plenty enough, yet you know it is always good housewifery to be economical.
Landlady (taking away the stone).—That’s true, indeed, sir.