to an end, the balloon once more began to shape itself in his
mind, as well as in that of Caspar; and for the first time they
proceeded to talk over the subject together.

"Cords we could have in plenty," remarked Caspar, "but they'd be of no
use, without the stuff to cover the great globe. They make it of silk,
don't they?"

"Yes," replied Karl, "silk is the best material for the purpose."

"And why?" inquired Caspar.

"Because it combines the three properties of lightness, strength, and
closeness of texture, in a greater degree than any other known
substance."

"Would nothing else do?"

"Oh, yes; many things would answer to make a balloon, that might carry
up a certain amount of weight. Even a paper balloon can be constructed
to take up a few pounds--a cat, or a small dog; and people in many
countries have been cruel enough to dispatch such creatures into the
air, not caring what became of them."

"Very cruel indeed!" assented Caspar, who, although a hunter, was far
from having an unfeeling heart. "Such people should be sent up
themselves in paper balloons."

"Yes, if paper balloons would carry them; which, unfortunately for us,
they wouldn't. Even if we had an unlimited supply of paper, it would be
of no use to us. We require something stronger, and more tenacious."

"Can we not think of something? Let us try, Karl!"

"Ah! dear brother, I have been trying for days, and in vain. There is
nothing within this valley at all suitable for the purpose."

"Would canvas do? Have you thought of that?"

"I have. It would be too coarse and heavy."

"But, with great pains, could we not make it light enough? We might
choose the finer fibres of the hemp; and spin and weave it with
scrupulous care. Ossaroo here is a perfect Omphale in his way. I'll
warrant he could beat Hercules with the distaff."

"Ho! brother!" exclaimed Karl, a little astonished. "You are quite
classical in your speech this morning. Where learnt you the history of
Hercules--you who have never seen the inside of a university?"

"You forget, brother Karl, that you yourself have been my instructor in
these classical themes, as you call them. Though I must tell you that,
with the exception of their occasionally lending a little ornament to my
speech, I have derived not the slightest advantage from them; nor is it
likely I ever shall."

"Well, Caspar," answered the botanist, "I am not going to stand up for
the classics, as you are w