(Enter mariners.)

Boatswain. Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! yare,
yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the master's whistle . . .
Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bring her to try wi'
the main course . . . Lay her a-hold, a-hold! Set her two courses.
Off to sea again; lay her off.


That will do, for the present; let us yare a little, now, for a
change.

If a man should write a book and in it make one of his characters
say, "Here, devil, empty the quoins into the standing galley and
the imposing stone into the hell-box; assemble the comps around the
frisket and let them jeff for takes and be quick about it," I
should recognize a mistake or two in the phrasing, and would know
that the writer was only a printer theoretically, not practically.

I have been a quartz miner in the silver regions--a pretty hard
life; I know all the palaver of that business: I know all about
discovery claims and the subordinate claims; I know all about
lodes, ledges, outcroppings, dips, spurs, angles, shafts, drifts,
inclines, levels, tunnels, air-shafts, "horses," clay casings,
granite casings; quartz mills and their batteries; arastras, and
how to charge them with quicksilver and sulphate of copper; and how
to clean them up, and how to reduce the resulting amalgam in the
retorts, and how to cast the bullion into pigs; and finally I know
how to screen tailings, and also how to hunt for something less