«
    »All hours, and all seasons are alike, my good Ellen, to the genuine lover
of nature,« returned a small, slightly made, but exceedingly active man dressed
in an odd mixture of cloth and skins, a little past the middle age, and who
advanced directly to her side, with the familiarity of an old acquaintance, »and
he who does not know how to find things to admire by this gray light, is
ignorant of a large portion of the blessings he enjoys.«
    »Very true,« said Ellen, suddenly recollecting the necessity of accounting
for her own appearance abroad, at that unseasonable hour, »I know many who think
the earth has a pleasanter look, in the night, than when seen by the brightest
sunshine.«
    »Ah! Their organs of sight must be too convex! But the man who wishes to
study the active habits of the feline race or the variety, Albinos, must indeed
be stirring at this hour. I dare say there are men, who prefer even looking at
objects by twilight, for the simple reason, that they see better at that time of
the day.«
    »And is this the cause why you are so much abroad, in the night?«
    »I am abroad at night, my good girl, because the earth in its diurnal
revolutions, leaves the light of the sun, but half the time on any given
meridian, and because what I have to do, cannot be performed in twelve or
fifteen consecutive hours. Now have I been off, two days from the family, in
search of a plant, that is known to exist on the tributaries of La Platte,
without seeing even a blade of grass that is not already enumerated and
classed.«
    »You have been unfortunate, Doctor, but -«
    »Unfortunate!« echoed the little man sideling nigher to his companion and
producing his tabletts with an air, in which exultation struggled strangely with
an affectation of self abasement. »No, no, Ellen, I am any thing but
unfortunate. Unless indeed, a man may be so called, whose fortune is made -
whose fame may be said to be established forever - whose name will go down to
posterity with that of Buffon - Buffon! a mere compiler! one who flourishes on
the foundation of other men's labours - no, pari passu, with Solander who bought
his knowledge, with pain and privations!«
    »Have you discovered a mine, Doctor Bat?«
    »More than a mine; a treasure, coined, and fit for instant use, girl