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 of shadows looked again at the ceiling—it was bare; they glanced at Sir Oracle—he slept. So they withdrew on tiptoe as they had entered.

“Well,” said the attendant-gnome, “how did you get on? Ah, yes,” he continued, when the rhyme was shown to him, “you’ll have to work in the Mines of Experience.”

“But where are the mines, and how do we get there?” asked the maker of shadows anxiously.

“Oh, my master’s fee includes a ticket of admission to the mines, but if you take his advice you have hard work before you.”

“The advice is wise,” said the two friends, “and we gladly accept it.”

“Pluckily spoken,” replied the attendant-gnome; “and now I‘ll unmuzzle the dogs so that they may bark approval.’’

Which they did, and made the welkin ring.

A few days passed in uneventful travelling, and then the maker of ghosts and the maker of shadows knew by the look of the country that they were close to the Mines of Experience.

Here and there notices appeared, such as— “TO BE SOLD CHEAP.

BANKRUPT STOCK. RARE OLD EXPERIENCE.”

“A FEW GOOD WAREHOUSES TO LET FOR STORING

EXPERIENCE.”

“WANTED, NEW EXPERIENCE BY A MINOR.”

“USE THE SAFETY-LAMPS OF PATIENCE AND HOPE.

NONE OTHERS GENUINE.” And now, having reached the end of their journey, the two friends gave up their ticket and determined to get to work at once on the common-sense principle of “Don’t put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day.” Having, therefore, changed their clothes for miners’ dress, they took basket, pick, and safety-lamp and sought the mouth of the shaft.

The descent was by means of upright ladders, five-and-twenty in number; and the lower down they got, the more difficult was their progress. The walls of the shaft dripped with moisture, and the rungs of the ladders were often damp and slippery. Now and then, too, a rung was missing, so that they had to be very careful of their footsteps. When they reached the level ground at the bottom of the shaft they