"Stonie is king. These are his people. But there are many more in the hill."
"How does thee know, dear?" asked Mrs. Allen. "Can thee tell me how it is?"
"Stonie tells me, mother," replied Ally.
"But how does he tell thee?" said Mrs. Allen, humoring the child's fancy by speaking of the stone as she herself did. "He does not speak in words. He makes no sound."
Ally looked perplexed. "No," she said, slowly, "I know that. But he likes me. He makes me see."
This was all the explanation she could ever give of the way in which she received impressions by means of the magnetic stone—"He makes me see." The next morning we inclosed a few of the smaller crystals in a letter and sent them to the Professor of Geology in our college, giving him a full account of the crystals, and of the locality where we had found them.
How anxiously we awaited his reply. Our brains teemed with the wildest hopes and projects; even Dr. Miller built air-castles, in which rubies and emeralds made walls and floors. The whole village was in a ferment of excitement. Black Ledge swarmed thick with eager crystal hunters. Many beautiful specimens were found, but no more of the perfectly formed crystals like ours. At last the letter came. Jim and I ran with it to Dr. Miller's
