animals. They were certainly more than any timid child could ever have
demanded.

"Them's it," said Dunn, watching the face of Jim with what modest pride
the situation would permit. "Now, what I want you to do is to give me
a genuine, candid opinion of the work."

"Wal, I'll tell you," drawled the miner, "whenever a man asks you for a
candid opinion, that's the time to fill your shovel with guff. It's
the only safe proceedin'. So I won't fool around with candid opinions,
Dunn, I'll just admit they are jewels. Cut my diamonds if they ain't!"

"I kind of thought so myself," confessed the carpenter. "But I thought
as you was a first-class critic, why, I'd like to hear what you'd say."

"No, I ain't no critic," Jim replied. "A critic is a feller who can
say nastier things than anybody else about things that anybody else can
do a heap sight better than he can himself."

"Well, I do reckon, as who shouldn't say so, that nobody livin' into
Borealis but me could 'a' made them blocks," agreed Dunn, returning the
lot to his sack. "But I jest wanted to hear you say so, Jim, fer you
and me has had an eddication which lots of cusses into camp 'ain't
never got. Not that it's anything agin 'em, but--you know how it is.
I'll bet the little shaver will like them better'n anything else he'll
git."

"Oh, he'll like 'em in a different way," agreed the miner. "No doubt
about that."