They were hoisted with difficulty to the mouth of the shaft and taken to the hospital. There they had to stay for a whole weary month, being, indeed, fortunate to have escaped with so little injury.
“His friend … slipped also”
(p. 31)
During this time they got someone to take a sample of the ore to the experience dealer for his opinion.
“What is it worth?—That!” said the honest man, snapping his fingers.
They now felt so very doleful that the doctor going his rounds noticed it, and asked what troubled them. They told him.
“You can’t complain that you have not got any experience now,” said he, with a smile, “only you've not got the right sort. Still, you’ve secured a plan of the mines, and you'll probably be more careful in future, and not be so sparing in the way of common-sense. By-the-bye, what picks and spades do you use?”
They told him, and he gravely shook his head, remarking—
“Oh, there’s no common-sense in them: you must have better, in order to succeed.” And he passed on.
Altogether this month of idleness was a gain to them, for it made them think, and they determined that they would go to work more wisely in future.
On the day they left the hospital and returned to their lodgings they found that someone had been inquiring about them. As they were wondering who it could be they heard a tap at the door, and—who should enter but the ground-gnome!
“I only arrived to-day,” he said. “Well, how are you getting on? Fairly on the road to fortune?”
