quartz between what had been the layers of the wood.

"Were you surprised?"

"Surprised? No! What would I be surprised about? What did I know
about petrifactions--following the sea? Petrifaction! There was
no such word in my language! I knew about putrifaction, though! I
thought it was a stone; so would you, if you was cleaning up
pasture."

And now he had a theory of his own, which I did not quite grasp,
except that the trees had not "grewed" there. But he mentioned,
with evident pride, that he differed from all the scientific people
who had visited the spot; and he flung about such words as "tufa"
and "scilica" with careless freedom.

When I mentioned I was from Scotland, "My old country," he said;
"my old country"--with a smiling look and a tone of real affection
in his voice. I was mightily surprised, for he was obviously
Scandinavian, and begged him to explain. It seemed he had learned
his English and done nearly all his sailing in Scotch ships. "Out
of Glasgow," said he, "or Greenock; but that's all the same--they
all hail from Glasgow." And he was so pleased with me for being a
Scotsman, and his adopted compatriot, that he made me a present of
a very beautiful piece of petrifaction--I believe the most
beautiful and portable he had.

Here was a man, at least, who was a Swede, a Scot, and an American,
acknowledging some kind allegiance to three lands. Mr. Wallace's
Scoto-Circassian will not fail to come before the reader. I have