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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"The Heritage of Dedlow Marsh and Other Tales"

But this yer blank fossiliferous trap, instead o' being
superposed on top, is superposed on the bottom. And that means"--
"What?" we all asked eagerly.
"Why--blank it all--that this yer convulsion of nature, this
prehistoric volcanic earthquake, instead of acting laterally and
chuckin' the stream to one side, has been revolutionary and turned
the old river-bed bottom-side up, and yer d--d cement hez got half
the globe atop of it! Ye might strike it from China, but nowhere
else."
We continued to look at one another, the older members with
darkening faces, the younger with a strong inclination to laugh.
Captain Jim, who had been concerned only in his friend's emotion,
and who was hanging with undisguised satisfaction on these final
convincing proofs of his superior geological knowledge, murmured
approvingly and confidingly, "He's right, boys! Thar ain't another
man livin' ez could give you the law and gospil like that! Ye can
tie to what he says. That's Lacy all over."
Two weeks passed. We had gathered, damp and disconsolate, in the
only available shelter of the camp. For the long summer had ended
unexpectedly to us; we had one day found ourselves caught like the
improvident insect of the child's fable with gauzy and unseasonable
wings wet and bedraggled in the first rains, homeless and hopeless.
The scientific Lacy, who lately spent most of his time as a bar-
room oracle in the settlement, was away, and from our dripping
canvas we could see Captain Jim returning from a visit to him,
slowly plodding along the trail towards us.


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