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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"The Heritage of Dedlow Marsh and Other Tales"

It was true
that the scientific explanation, although full and gratuitous,
sounded vague and incoherent. It was true that the geological
terms were not always correct, and their pronunciation defective,
but we accepted such extraordinary discoveries as "ignus fatuus
rock," "splendiferous drift," "mica twist" (recalling a popular
species of tobacco), "iron pirates," and "discomposed quartz" as
part of what he not inaptly called a "tautological formation," and
were happy. Nor was our contentment marred by the fact that the
well-known scientific authority with whom the stranger had been
intimate,--to the point of "sleeping together" during a survey,--
and whom he described as a bent old man with spectacles, must have
aged considerably since one of our party saw him three years before
as a keen young fellow of twenty-five. Inaccuracies like those
were only the carelessness of genius. "That's my opinion,
gentlemen," he concluded, negligently rising, and with pointed
preoccupation whipping the dust of Eureka Gulch from his clothes
with his handkerchief, "but of course it ain't nothin' to me."
Captain Jim, who had followed every word with deep and trustful
absorption, here repeated, "It ain't nothing to him, boys," with a
confidential implication of the gratuitous blessing we had
received, and then added, with loyal encouragement to him, "It
ain't nothing to you, Lacy, in course," and laid his hand on his
shoulder with infinite tenderness.


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