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Updated: June 24, 2025
Then he keeps quoting innumerable scraps of Latin, and makes classical allusions, while we are turning over the goldmine; and the contrast between the nature of his employment and the character of his thoughts is irresistibly ludicrous. I have written this epistle in the parlor, while Farmer Ripley, and Farmer Farley, and Farmer Dismal View were talking about their agricultural concerns.
Then changing his tone: "Don't you know your voice is a goldmine that has not been fully explored? You are an excellent artist, but that is not sufficient. You must forget yourself and represent Gualtiero. Let's try again." The tenor, stung by the admonition, then gave the part magnificently.
The Ambler tossed his head and turned it away. George came out into the open, and made his way towards the Stand. His trainer's words had instilled a drop of poison into his cup. "A goldmine given away!" He went up to Swells. On his lips were the words: "What made you give the show away like that?"
June 1st. . . . . I have been too busy to write a long letter by this opportunity, for I think this present life of mine gives me an antipathy to pen and ink, even more than my Custom-House experience did. . . . In the midst of toil, or after a hard day's work in the goldmine, my soul obstinately refuses to be poured out on paper. That abominable gold-mine!
But you, Dolorosus, you, to whom God gave youth and health, and who might have kept them, the one long and the other perchance always, but who never loved them, nor reverenced them, nor cherished them, only coined them into money till they were all gone, and even the ill-gotten treasure fell from your debilitated hands, you, who shunned the sunshine as if it were sin, and called all innocent recreation time wasted, you, who staid under ground in your goldmine, like the sightless fishes of the Mammoth Cave, till you were as blind and unjoyous as they, what plea have you to make, what shelter to claim, except that charity which suffereth long and is kind?
Weston, who felt that he had gone quite far enough, merely bent his head in a manner that, as she naturally noticed, the average bush packer would not have adopted. It was she who first spoke again. "You were successful in your search?" she asked. Weston laughed. "Do I look like a man who has just found a goldmine?"
"Both men stood aside to enable me to continue my reading, and, as I was about to turn away, the smarter of the two addressed me. "'Good chanth here, misther. Nithe little bithness going for nothing. No charge for goodwill or fixtures. Ready-made bithneth and nothing to pay but rent. "'Ja! the other man broke in, 'dat shop is a leedle goldmine; und you buys 'im for noding.
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