h of these gaunt antennae.
But each time they got him to touch a grindstone, his body changed its
character from shrinking and doubtful, to erect and energetic, and he
applied his test. This boy carried with him, night and day, a little
wooden hammer, like an auctioneer's, and with this he now tapped each
stone several times, searching for the one he had denounced: and, at
each experiment, he begged the others to keep away from him and leave
him alone with the subject of his experiment; which they did, and held
up the lamp and threw the light on him.

Six heavy grindstones he tapped, and approved, three he even praised and
called "good music."

The seventh he struck twice, first gently, then hard and drew back from
it, screaming "Oh, the bad music! Oh, the wheel of death!" and tried to
tear the handkerchief from his eyes.

"Be quiet, Billy," said the visitor, calmly; and, putting his arm round
the boy's neck, drew him to his side, and detached the handkerchief, all
in a certain paternal way that seemed to betoken a kindly disposition.
But, whilst he was doing this, he said to Henry, "Now--you marked a
stone in daylight; which was it?"

"No, no, I didn't mark the stone, but I wrote on the wall just opposite.
Lend us the light, Bayne. By George! here is my mark right opposite this
stone."

"Then Billy's right. Well done, Billy." He put his hand in his pocket
and gave him a new shilling. He then inquired of Bayne, with the air of
a pupil seeking advice from a master, whether this discovery ought not
to be acted upon.

"What would you suggest, sir?" asked Bayne, with equal deference.

"Oh, if I was sure I should not be considered presumptuous in offering
my advice, I would say, Turn the stone into the yard, and bang a new
one. You have got three excellent ones outside; from Buckhurst quarry,
by the look of them."

"It shall be done, sir."

This effective co-operation, on the part of a stranger, was naturally
gratifying to Henry, and he said to him: "I should be glad to ask you a
question. You seem to know a good deal about this trade--"

A low chuckle burst out of Bayne, but he instantly suppressed it, for
fear of giving offense--

"Are serious accidents really common with these grindstones?"

"No, no," said Bayne, "not common. Heaven forbid."

"They are not common--in the newspapers," replied the other. "But" (to
Bayne), "will you permit me to light these two gaslights for a moment?"

"Well, sir, it is co