CHAPTER VI.--CHECKMATED._Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 696 April 28, 1877.

On their return to the church the sexton was just about to lock the

door, but seeing two gentlemen approaching, he waited till they came

up; and not having seen them on their former visit there that morning,

he politely asked them if they wanted to see the church.

'My friend has come here to be married,' said Jones. 'Where are the

other members of the party?'

'Come to be married, has he? Who was he going to be married to?'

'Miss Angela Faithful,' said Jones.

'O come, that won't do, you know,' said the sexton, with a glance at

Isaac's tall but ungainly figure; 'you're not going to gammon _me_.

It's true she _was_ married this morning, and a pretty young woman she

is, and dressed very handsome too'----

'Yes,' Isaac broke in; 'and where did the money for it come from?'

'I didn't ask her, and she didn't tell me,' returned the man, half

cross, yet half amused.

'You must have made some mistake, my friend,' said Jones. 'To whom was

the young lady married?'

'I didn't hear his surname; but he was married in the name of Herbert.'

'That is her brother!' cried Isaac and Jones together.

'Ah, well; they're husband and wife too, now--a sort of double

relationship, you see. But I can't wait here while you take your fun

off me no longer,' the sexton continued. 'So here goes.' With that he

locked the door and walked away.

'Stay!' cried Jones; 'we are not making fun of you; the matter is far

too serious. Where can we find the clergyman who married them?'

'I can't tell you; he doesn't live hereabouts. He only took the duty

for our gentleman, who is away for a few days. I believe his name is

Smith; but I've never seen him before, and very likely shan't ever see

him again.'

'Which way did the two go when they left the church?' Jones asked.

'I was inside, so didn't notice,' answered the sexton.

Isaac followed his friend down the church path, and seemed utterly

bewildered. But now Jones appealed to him as to the probable

destination of the pair. Isaac blankly suggested New West Road; so

thither they went. Mrs Glubbs--Miss Faithful's care-taker--answered

them. She knew nothing of Angela's movements, except that she

understood she was gone to be married; to whom she did not know, but

supposed it was to the young man she was always with--Mr Herbert. Could

they see Miss Faithful? Yes; certainly, if they liked; but she would be

able to give them no information; for she could scarcely speak now, and

was well nigh idiotic.

The friends next proceeded to Brixton. A handsome phaeton was outside

Isaac's house, and a gentleman--a stranger--was inside. He received

them very urbanely, and just as though the place belonged to him.

Upon Jones asking him (for Isaac seemed as though he were in a dream)

his business there, the gentleman politely returned him the same

question.

'Sir,' said Jones, 'this is my friend's house: you are under some

misconception.'

'Sir,' said the stranger politely, 'you are apparently labouring under

the same difficulty. I bought this furniture as it stands, these

fixtures, and the lease of this house, the day before yesterday, and am

now legally in possession. Permit me, however, to remove any doubt by

shewing you these papers. No--pardon me--not in your own hands: you can

look over me.'

Yes; the documents were genuine enough; a proper lease and transfer,

and all the rest of it; but no sign of the name of Isaac Webb. The

stranger said the gentleman of whom he bought the lease, &c. was a Mr

Herbert Ashton, whom he had not the pleasure of knowing personally; but

the business had been properly conducted on both sides by respectable

solicitors. He believed the last owner, Mr Ashton, had held the lease

but a very short time.

The friends' next visit was to the police. They listened patiently

to the tale, and calmly said they did not think much of it. Had the

gentleman any witnesses or papers to prove it? No. Very well then; what

could they, the police, do? The gentleman _might_ be able to get a

warrant; but if the story were true, the persons who had got the better

of him would know how to keep out of the way of that; but it was a tale

almost impossible to prove; and for their part they didn't believe

a word of it. The gentleman looked as if he was insane. It may be

remarked that Jones did not form a very high opinion of the penetration

and intellectual capacity of the police in this matter. He next tried

to persuade Isaac to go and consult a respectable solicitor; but at

this he absolutely rebelled.

'No, no,' he said; 'it will only cost me a lot more money.' At that

word--so dear to him--he fairly broke down and sobbed aloud. A crowd

began to form; so Jones hailed a cab, and bore Isaac off to the railway

station _en route_ for Dambourne.

CHAPTER THE LAST.--THE MORAL.

Isaac stayed with his friend Jones until he began to get over in some

measure the shock he had experienced, when he resumed his old quarters

with Mrs Clappen. After he had been settled there about a week, he

saw in a newspaper the following announcement: 'On the 10th instant,

HERBERT ASHTON, Esq. to ANGELA, fifth daughter of the late VINCENT

FAITHFUL, Esq. of London. No cards.' This was supplemented at the end

of another week by the receipt of the following letter:

DEAR MR WEBB--Possibly you may think that some sort of

explanation is due to you from me. I must inform you then,

that Herbert Ashton (whom you have known as Herbert Faithful)

and I have been attached to each other for some years. The

want of a little money as capital alone prevented our union.

You remember, I daresay, our introduction at the Holloway

ball. On that occasion the idea first came into my mind to

play the part I have. It occurred to me as I listened to your

conversation with Mr Hoppe, the Master of the Ceremonies,

respecting me and _my expectations_. Thanks to you, they are

certainly no worse now than they were then. I mentioned my

idea to Herbert, and he has well helped me to carry it into

effect. The shock to your self-conceit, pride, and cunning

is no doubt severe, but time will assist you to get over it;

and the lesson you have learned may perhaps be of value to

you some day. Meanwhile endeavour to forget us. It will be

idle to remember us; for we are--when this reaches you--far

from the old country. We have left it and the old name in all

probability for ever--unless indeed you should ever leave

us the remainder of your property, in which case we might

cross the seas to claim it. And if at any time chance should

cause us to meet it will be but as strangers, for Herbert

was careful to re-possess himself of all the receipts and

documents, that could be of no use to us where they were.

They are now destroyed. And do not trouble Miss Faithful

with fruitless inquiries. She is not my aunt, but a distant

relation of the same name as my father. Her property I may

tell you goes at her death to her sister, Mrs Glubbs. We have

met with Mr Scamplin, in whom my husband recognised an old

acquaintance. He is now with us, and desires to be remembered

to you. If you ever think of your monetary loss--eight hundred

pounds, was it not?--remember with pleasure that it has

conduced to my happiness. I am aware that you intended it to

do so, but in a slightly different way. And now, Mr Webb,

good-bye for ever; and believe me that I shall never forget

you. My dear husband desires his remembrances to you, and

wishes me to say that he forgives you your rudeness to me at

all times, as do I,

Yours never very truly,

ANGELA ASHTON.

AFFECTION IN BIRD-LIFE.

Any one who will watch carefully may soon perceive that not only

pigeons in the court-yard, sparrows on the roof, crows and magpies in

the wood, and many other birds, always live together in inseparable

pairs; but also that swallows and various other small birds, when,

in the autumn, they fly about in great swarms previous to migrating,

always keep together affectionately in pairs. Starlings, crows, and

various others, collect together in the evenings in large numbers on

bushes, high trees, and church roofs for a night's rest; but in the

morning the company resolves itself into pairs, and during the entire

time of flight these pairs remain together. Several species are the

exceptions to this rule, inasmuch as the two sexes form into separate

companies to prosecute their migratory flight; this is the case with

most of our summer warblers. The males start, and also probably return,

some days earlier than the females; but whenever the two sexes have

returned, they mate, and the pairs then formed are supposed to be of

the same individuals as in previous years.

The fidelity and affectionate intimacy of married bird-life appears

most conspicuously in pairs of the Grosbeak family and in small

parrots. Here is perfect harmony of will and deed. The two sweethearts

appear unwilling to leave one another's company for a moment all their

life; they do everything together--eating and drinking, bathing and

dressing of feathers, sleeping and waking. Various degrees of affection

and harmony are discernible on close observation. Among the small

grosbeaks, pairs of which sit together, the intimate relation is never

disturbed; even over the feeding-cup there is no quarrelling. They

stand highest in this respect among birds. Love-tokens are exchanged

by pressing of beaks together--a veritable kissing, accompanied with

loving gestures. They are also more sociable, and even at nesting-time

more peaceable, than other birds. In the case of other grosbeaks,

when the male bird sits by the female in the nest, there are various

demonstrations of affection, but also slight occasional disputes,

especially about feeding-time. Next in order come the small parrots,

which also appear almost inseparable. The male bird feeds his companion

with seeds from the crop. This goes on quite regularly during the

hatching, and until the young are somewhat grown. During all this

time the hen-bird, which broods alone, never leaves the nest but for

a few minutes, and the cock shews such affectionate care, that the

whole day he seems to do nothing but take food and give it again. Yet

even this loving union is marred from time to time, even during the

hatching-time, with quarrels that even come to blows. Again, the male

bird of a pair of chaffinches only occasionally sits on the eggs or

young, but he watches the nest very carefully, singing to his mate the

while, accompanies the hen in flight, and helps her in feeding the

young.

The marriage unions of parrots present great differences. The

long-tailed Australian parrots, beautiful in plumage, but mentally

inferior, are not nearly so affectionate towards each other as the

little short-tailed species. M. Russ, a careful observer, tells us that

the male bird of the Australian Nymph Cockatoo generally remains by

night with the female, and during the day sits much more than she does.

Such parental care is rare. Many parrots, especially large species, are

by no means peaceable in their sexual relations, and appear somewhat

affectionate only at the time of nidification. Large parrots are

commonly very excited at brooding-time, and ferocious towards other

animals, and even men. All parrots shew affection by giving food out of

the crop.

A quite peculiar wedlock is observable in some of the finches and

other birds. 'In my aviary,' says M. Russ, 'I had a pair of saffron

finches, at whose behaviour I was for some time quite astonished. The

cock and the hen hunted and persecuted each other savagely for days

and weeks together; it was not, as in the case of some other birds,

mere sport and teasing, but a bitter strife; the end of which was

that the male bird, which appeared to have the worst of it, made his

escape altogether, and never returned. Yet these two birds nestled,

and actually reared four young, though I could not perceive whether

their hatred was laid aside, or at least abated, during the hatching.'

Similar phenomena, though not so pronounced, occur amongst finches,

parrots, birds of prey, &c.

We have already said that the grosbeaks express affection for one

another. The male frequently also performs a dance before the object of

his regard; he hops about in a droll courtesying manner, with outspread

tail and nodding head, warbling at the same time a melodious ditty. The

larger grosbeaks give forth peculiar sounds accompanied with a hopping

movement. These love-dances are frequently to be noticed in bird-life;

among the best known and most skilful in this respect are those of the

black-cock, the love-making of which is exceedingly interesting to

watch.

The strong pugnacity developed among birds at time of hatching is

remarkable. Even the little gentle grosbeak will endeavour, by violent

pecking, to drive away males of the same or closely related species

from the neighbourhood of his loved one. The larger finches are often

roused by the same zeal to a blind fury, which, in the case of the

chaffinch, is frequently taken advantage of by the bird-catchers. The

fights observed in nature between birds have most generally for their

cause the emotions of love.

We come to another expression of affection in bird-life--namely, song.

It is to a great extent of a purely emulative character, and not

seldom is the contention so strong and persistent, that one of the

two rivals, through over-exertion, falls lifeless to the ground. One

may observe such rivalry in spring, in the woods and fields, between

two neighbouring male finches, nightingales, and various other birds.

And in the aviary it is to be observed not only among the excellent

singers, such as the gray finches and red cardinals, but also in the

comparatively silent grosbeaks.

But the singing of birds has of course also another aspect--it is the

most potent means of wooing. And this is true not only as regards the

sweet plaint of the nightingale, the melodious warbling of the finch,

but also of the hoarse croaking of the crows, the ear-splitting

screech of the jay, the murmur of the pigeons, and the like--doubtless

the most bewitching tones they are able to produce. 'Hark! the lark at

heaven's gate sings;' so says Shakspeare. And for what does the lark

ascend and trill his cheerful lay in mid-air, but to sing in a spirit

of kindness to his mate nestling on the ground within hearing of his

notes; or as a versifier has pictured this delicate attention:

The lark on high now mounts the sky,

All hear his pipe a-ringing;

His mate on nest whom he loves best,

Sits listening to his singing.

It can hardly be doubted that the response awakened in the heart of

female birds in these circumstances is quite as genuinely tender as

the notes addressed to them. The very birds of the air might teach a

lesson to man--to the wretches who, in the bosom of civilisation, kick

wives to death, and leave their children to die under the accumulated

miseries of want and desolation!

THE MONTH:

SCIENCE AND ARTS.

At the meeting of the Iron and Steel Institute last month, Mr C. W.

Siemens, F.R.S., was elected President: to the honour of the Institute,

be it recorded. In his inaugural address he discussed a question on

which he has bestowed much thought, namely fuel. The coal-fields of the

globe, so far as at present known, comprise two hundred and seventy

thousand square miles, one hundred and ninety-two thousand of which

are in the United States, eighteen thousand in Nova Scotia, and eleven

thousand nine hundred in Great Britain. Mr Siemens is of opinion that

at our present rate of consumption, we have in this country coal enough

to last eleven hundred years; and that if the consumption should tend

to increase, it will be kept in check by the economical processes of

heating that remain to be discovered. And in many parts of the world

there are underground stores of gas that can be made available as

fuel, as exemplified by the seventy furnaces at Pittsburgh, which do

all their puddling and reheating by means of the gas flowing through

eighteen miles of pipe from its source in Pennsylvania.

As an example of the saving that can be effected by mere mechanical

contrivance, we take a new ship of the Inman line trading between

Liverpool and New York, in which the old style of engine has given

place to the 'modern double cylinder compound engines,' which leave

a much larger space for cargo than the old engines, and burn about

sixty-five tons of coal per day, instead of one hundred and fifteen

tons. The saving in the article of fuel is thus seen to be very great,

even for a single ship.

Of course iron and steel were prominent topics of discussion at

the meeting, and the conclusion to be drawn therefrom is, that in

ship-building and other mechanical operations steel will take the place

of iron. The torpedo vessel _Lightning_, which steams nineteen knots

an hour, is already an evidence of what can be done by the combined

lightness and strength of steel; another is promised by Admiral

Sartorius, which will cleave the water at the rate of twenty-four

knots, and steel ships of large size are building and to be built

for the government. In this way the peaceful arts become diverted to

warlike purposes, and heighten the cost of war to a prodigious extent.

The future of steel, said Mr Bramwell, F.R.S., in his lecture at the

Royal Institution, is to supersede iron for almost everything except

the forge-work of common blacksmiths; and further, that part of the

province of cast-iron, such as toothed-wheels and castings of complex

form, which now, thanks to Riepe's improved construction of moulds, can

be produced from molten steel.

Mr Siemens' process for the manufacture of steel leaves nothing to

chance. The quality of steel is always that which was foreseen and

desired; and the samples, when submitted to the severe tests imposed by

the Admiralty, are never found to fail.

But Professor Barff's discovery seems to shew that iron will not be

easily superseded. If iron can be produced that will not under any

circumstances get rusty, iron will become more useful than ever.

The discovery is this: that if hot iron is placed in a chamber of

superheated steam, it takes on a black coat which is magnetic oxide,

and this coat is so hard and impervious to atmospheric influences that

rust will not form upon it. The hotter the steam in which the process

is carried on, the harder is the coat: after an exposure of seven

hours to twelve hundred degrees, it will resist a file. Consequently

the strength of the iron is greatly increased, and it can never become

weakened by rust. The importance of this fact can hardly be overrated

in connection, for instance, with iron plates for boilers and ships, in

which unlimited strength would be highly prized.

We are told that the protecting coat can be put on at small cost,

and that it will probably be made use of for iron goods of every

description. 'Copper vessels will no longer possess any advantages for

cooking, and iron saucepans will no longer need to be tinned. Lead

pipes for the conveyance of water will in all probability be entirely

superseded; and there can be no doubt that new uses for incorrodible

iron will every day suggest themselves. Messrs Penn of Greenwich are

about to undertake a series of trials for the purpose of testing the

strength of the prepared articles, so that they may become able to

speak with authority upon the fitness of the protected iron for bridge

girders and architectural purposes.'

How to make iron without producing slag is a question which, if any

one can answer satisfactorily, his reward shall be great in fame and

fortune. In Yorkshire alone, the blast-furnaces pour out more than four

million tons of slag a year, from which fact the enormous quantity

produced throughout the kingdom can be judged of. Sixteen million tons

of refuse! What can be done with it? In some places, land has been

bought or hired to provide space for the ugly heaps, and many attempts

have been made to lessen the accumulation by finding uses for the slag.

It has been made into blocks and bricks for paving; into slabs, pipes,

brackets, and friezes; into cement; into sand for fertilising purposes;

and while in the molten condition, has been blown into a substance

resembling cotton-wool. But some of these attempts have failed, and

not one has sufficed to diminish the heaps of slag. And now another

suggestion, based on the fact that slag is vitreous, is put forth,

namely to convert it into glass. A mixture of sand, soda, and slag

melted in a furnace will come out as glass. The experiment would not be

expensive, for slag in any quantity may be had for nothing.

If some of those ingenious individuals who write so frequently to the

Admiralty or to the Royal Society announcing that they have discovered

the true place of the axis of the earth, or the true explanation of the

precession of the equinoxes, or the cause of compass deviation, would

only turn their attention to the questions in the foregoing paragraph,

they might perhaps make practical discoveries which would be capable of

proof, and potential of profit.

Last session a paper on the Best Method of Propelling Steamships

was read at the United Service Institution. In the discussion that

followed, Admiral Selwyn said experiment had shewn that whether you

divide the water by a very narrow fine bow, cleaving the fluid like an

axe, or whether you put that narrow fine bow flat on the water, and

drive it over the water, the resistance is for all practical purposes

the same: having fine lines there is no more resistance in the one case

than in the other. Experiment has shewn also that between the finest

vessel of deep draught and a vessel of similar tonnage, built in the

form of a segment of a sphere, there is no difference of resistance.

'But there is this remarkable difference in another way, that whereas

the sharp deep-keeled vessel plunges constantly under water, and makes

bad weather of it, the segment of the sphere always rides over the

water with perfect ease.'

And at the meeting of Naval Architects, Mr Reed explained that a

circular ironclad will float better and carry heavier weights than a

ship of the ordinary shape, and yet not be deficient in speed.

At last a parliamentary committee has been appointed to collect

evidence on the condition of the Thames and other rivers, on the best

means of regulating them, and of economising the rainfall so that there

shall be a sufficient supply of water at all seasons. This is a great

question: human requirements confronting the forces of nature with a

view to harmonious co-operation. According to a statement made at a

meeting of the Institution of Civil Engineers, the quantity of water

that flows daily over Teddington weir is 3,223,125 tons; hence the

Thames will count for something in the inquiry. Besides which, we may

remember that the commerce carried by the royal river amounts to nine

million tons annually.

At a recent meeting of the Franklin Institute, Philadelphia,

there were exhibited an Odontograph for laying out the teeth of

gear-wheels; an exhaust nozzle for quieting the noise of safety-valves

and escape-pipes; an aspirator for ventilating mill-stones, and a

horse-shoe intended to prevent slipping on a smoothly paved road.

Readers desirous of further particulars must write to Philadelphia; but

if that 'quieting nozzle' can only be made available, passengers at

railway stations and on board steamboats will be spared the deafening

roar that now annoys them, and will feel grateful accordingly.

The last published volume of _Transactions_ of the Royal Society

of Victoria contains a paper entitled, 'Is the Eucalyptus a

Fever-destroying Tree?' a question which, as our readers are aware,

is not less interesting here in Europe than in Australia. Baron von

Mueller, government botanist at Melbourne, has described more than

one hundred and thirty species of Eucalyptus: some grow into forests

of great extent both on high and low table-land, others form dense

desert scrub, while others are so distributed as to impart a park-like

appearance to the landscape. The leaves are evergreen, and so arranged

that the light and heat of the sun fall equally on each side; and the

roots are dispersive and drain water largely from the soil. Besides the

general constituents of a ligneous vegetation, the Eucalyptus contains

a gum-resin, a volatile acid, and a peculiar volatile oil. The finest

forests, _Eucalyptus amygdalina_, extend inland about one hundred

miles, beyond which the scrub species prevail. When by vicissitude of

season the seaward species are poor in volatile oil, then the scrub

is rich, and _vice versâ_. The extent of scrub and forest in the

three colonies of New South Wales, Victoria, and South Australia is

so great that the quantity of oil therein contained is estimated at

96,877,440,000 gallons. On this Mr Bosisto, the author of the paper

above referred to, remarks: 'Considering that the same condition

exists throughout the major part of Australia ... we cannot arrive at

any other conclusion than that the whole atmosphere of Australia is

more or less affected by the perpetual exhalation of those volatile

bodies.' The aroma thereof would be disagreeable, were it not that

'volatile oils have the power of changing oxygen into ozone while they

are slowly oxidising.' It can hardly be doubted that the influence on

climate must be important. 'Let,' says Mr Bosisto, 'a small quantity

of any of the eucalyptus oils, but especially the oil of _Eucalyptus

amygdalina_, be distributed sparingly in a sick-chamber, or over any

unpleasant substance, or add a small quantity to stagnant water, and

the pleasure of breathing an improved air will immediately be manifest.

The application of this to the climate of Australia has great force,

for it is acknowledged that we possess about us, both in bush and town,

a large amount of active oxygen, made frequently doubly so by our

vigorous vegetation.'

The conclusion from the whole series of facts is, that the Eucalyptus

_is_ a fever-destroying tree. Baron von Mueller states that the

_Eucalyptus amygdalina_ in favourable situations grows to a height of

four hundred feet, that it yields more oil than any other species, and

bears the climate of Europe. The species of quickest growth is the

_Eucalyptus globulus_.

In a communication to the Royal Astronomical Society, Mr W. M.

Williams points out that obscure heat, such as that radiated from

sun-spots, is much more largely absorbed by our atmosphere than the

heat from the luminous parts of the sun's surface. Consequently the

obscure heat exerts an influence on terrestrial climate as well as the

luminous heat: the former in preventing or modifying the formation of

clouds in the upper regions, and in producing thereby meteorological

results which would be an interesting study. An illustration of what

is meant by this is afforded by a well-known phenomenon, namely the

general clearness of the sky during full moon, the clouds having been

dissipated by the obscure heat-rays _reflected from the moon's surface_.

If observations of the difference of absorption between the two

kinds of heat could be made at different heights, we should have,

as Mr Williams says, 'a new means of studying the constitution of

the interior of the sun and its relations to the photosphere. Direct

evidence of selective absorption by our atmosphere may thus be

obtained, which would go far towards solving one of the crucial solar

problems--whether the darker regions are hotter or cooler than the

photosphere?'

St Bartholomew's Hospital Reports contain an article by Dr Hollis in

which an attempt is made to clear the study of mental physics of some

of its obscurity, and to shew what are the functions of the brain and

the way in which they may be studied. Examples are given of the effects

of disease: a letter-sorter in the Post-office had experienced a

failure of memory during two years, could not continue his employment,

and eventually died. A large tumour was found in the substance of the

left temporal lobe of the brain, which probably accounted for the loss

of memory and inability to retain a mental picture of the pigeon-holes

into which the letters were to be sorted. The organs of the brain were

there, but their proper action was disturbed by the growth of disease,

and the man of necessity ceased to be a letter-sorter. In concluding

his article, Dr Hollis warns 'students of this seductive branch of

medical science not to attempt to localise in the cortex too closely

the several faculties of the mind. It is preposterous,' he remarks, 'to

expect that similar cells are reserved for similar functions in all

human brains, knowing what we do of the great diversity in man's mental

nature, his various occupations, proclivities, and talents. Beyond the

fact that there exists in our brains a posterior or retentive system,

and an anterior or expressive system, our knowledge of this organ will

not at present permit us to go.'

The effect of ether and of chloroform as anæsthetics, is attracting

considerable attention. It is alleged that with chloroform, vascular

paralysis frequently precedes respiratory paralysis; and an amount

of chloroform insufficient to cause paralysis of respiration will

often produce vascular paralysis, accompanied by such a diminution

of blood-pressure as to render artificial respiration useless, since

interchange between the gases of the air and blood does not take

place. In this case artificial respiration does not recall life, and

respiration ceases when artificial aid is removed. Experiments made

with nitrite of amyl demonstrate its value as an antidote to the

dangerous effects of chloroform; for which reason an American physician

remarks: 'In the light of our present knowledge, it seems to me that

humanity and science alike require that, when chloroform is used as

an anæsthetic, the nitrite of amyl should be at hand, as one of the

remedies whose efficiency is to be tested in case of impending danger.'

Medical practitioners in Calcutta have had their attention called to

a species of parasite before undescribed, which has been found in

large numbers in the intestines of persons who have died of cholera.

According to a description recently published in the _Journal_ of the

Asiatic Society of Bengal, it is the _Amphistoma hominis_. 'I have

never seen such parasites,' writes Dr Simpson, 'and apparently they are

unknown to the natives. They are of a red colour, size of a tadpole,

adhering to the mucous membrane, by a circular open mouth which they

have the power of dilating and contracting.' It is to be hoped that

these somewhat mysterious tormentors will not make their appearance in

Europe. By way of precaution, we would just hint, 'See that you drink

pure water.'

Of petroleum furnaces of a small size suited for high temperatures we

find Quichenot's (lately noticed in these columns) is not the first

attempt made, one having been introduced some years ago by Griffin,

an English manufacturer. The difficulty with all petroleum furnaces

is to keep them lighted until the casing or crucible is sufficiently

hot to do this itself. The special liability which petroleum furnaces

have to blow out _at first_, is to a great extent if not entirely

overcome in Griffin's by the use of a wick. We are told by those who

are practically conversant with the subject, that there are many

difficulties in the use of petroleum as a fuel for furnace-work on a

small scale, which, however, may be in a measure overcome by skilful

management. But for small furnace operations it is now generally

admitted that there is no fuel so well adapted as gas. A gas furnace

of an entirely novel construction was introduced about a year ago by

Mr Fletcher, F.C.S., of Warrington, in which the gas is burnt by an

arrangement similar to Giffard's Injector, and requiring no more air

than an ordinary small foot blower will supply with ease. The whole

arrangement is exceedingly simple; and a refractory clay crucible

can be fused in less than half an hour by an apparatus which (blower

included) can easily be carried in one hand. Of gas furnaces not

requiring a blast, the pioneer was Gore, who made the first draft

furnace, burning gas, which would fuse cast-iron; and the principle

made use of by Gore--that is, the subdivision of a large flame by

air-spaces--has been since made use of successfully in many forms by

different makers; but the maximum temperatures obtained in Gore's

furnace have never yet been exceeded by any maker without the use of a

blast. The nearest approach to a draft furnace giving really intense

heats is, so far as we can ascertain, the Injector furnace of Mr

Fletcher, which requires only about one-fifth of the air consumed to be

supplied by blowing, the remaining part of the air being drawn in from

the surrounding atmosphere by the action of the furnace itself.