better world; and Tom kept still and didn't tell him they was only
Mohammedans; it warn't no use to disappoint him, he was feeling bad
enough just as it was.

When we woke up next morning we was feeling a little cheerfuller, and had
had a most powerful good sleep, because sand is the comfortablest bed
there is, and I don't see why people that can afford it don't have it
more. And it's terrible good ballast, too; I never see the balloon so
steady before.

Tom allowed we had twenty tons of it, and wondered what we better do with
it; it was good sand, and it didn't seem good sense to throw it away. Jim
says:

"Mars Tom, can't we tote it back home en sell it? How long'll it take?"

"Depends on the way we go."

"Well, sah, she's wuth a quarter of a dollar a load at home, en I reckon
we's got as much as twenty loads, hain't we? How much would dat be?"

"Five dollars."

"By jings, Mars Tom, le's shove for home right on de spot! Hit's more'n a
dollar en a half apiece, hain't it?"

"Yes."

"Well, ef dat ain't makin' money de easiest ever I struck! She jes'
rained in--never cos' us a lick o' work. Le's mosey right along, Mars