"
Hope did not answer this directly.
"There, don't go to meet trouble, my man," said he. "Give me the
can, Grace. Now, Burnley, hold this can, and catch every drop till
it is full."
"Why, it will take hauf a day to fill it," objected Burnley, "and it will
be hauf mud when all is done."
"I'll filter it," said Hope. "You do as you are bid."
He darted to a part of the mine where he had seen a piece of charred
timber; he dragged it in with him, and asked Grace for a
pocket-handkerchief; she gave him a clean cambric one. He took his
pocket-knife and soon scraped off a little heap of charcoal; and then he
sewed the handkerchief into a bag--for the handy man always carried a
needle and thread.
Slowly, slowly the muddy water trickled into the little can, and then the
bag being placed over the larger can, slowly, slowly the muddy water
trickled through Hope's filter, and dropped clear and drinkable into the
larger can. In that dead life of theirs, with no incidents but torments
and terrors, the hours passed swiftly in this experiment.
Pages:
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420