"
"Yes; Mr. Rawdon," replied the pseudo Miss Du Plessis, "you look--well,
not pretty--but warm."
"O, dash it hall, that haint wot I meant, Miss Do Please-us; I mean hi'm
a man that's got the dibs, the rhino, the blunt, you know, wot makes the
mare go. I don't go geologizin' round for nothin'."
"You pick up stones, I suppose?"
"Yes; grinstuns, limestun grit, that's the stuff to make you jolly."
"I have heard of drawing blood out of a stone, Mr. Rawdon, but never of
extracting merriment or exhilaration from a grindstone."
"Then you don't know my grinstuns, Miss; they're full o' fun."
"Are they indeed? How amusing! In what way does the fun display itself?"
"A bundle of my grinstuns, distributed at a loggin' bee, a raisin' bee,
or a campaign caucus, ware there's a lot of haxes to grind, can make
more fun than the Scott Act'll spile in a month. But silence is silence
'twixt partners, which I opes you and me is to be."
The fictitious Miss Du Plessis, with much simpering and affectation,
quite unworthy of the original, drew the working geologist out, and
inspired him with hopes of securing her hand and property.
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