Paving-bricks, however, are not to be despised. They are not as smooth

and well finished as pressed brick, but they are exceedingly useful.

They need as much care in making as any others, and they must be

burned in a much hotter fire to make them dense and hard. The tests

for paving-bricks are quite different from those for ordinary

building-brick. If first-class paving-bricks weighing fifty pounds are

soaked in water for twenty hours, they take up so little water that

they will not weigh more than fifty-one or fifty-one and a half pounds

when taken out. To find out how hard they are, the bricks are weighed

and shaken about with foundry shot for a number of hours. Then they

are weighed again to see how much of their material has been rubbed

off. A third test is to put one brick on edge into a crushing machine

to see how much pressure it will stand. Paving-brick is cheaper than

granite blocks, and if it has a good foundation of concrete covered

with sand, it will last about three fourths as long. Brick is less

noisy than stone and is easier to clean.

Not so very long ago, when particularly handsome bricks were needed

for the outside of walls and other places where they would be

conspicuous, they were "re-pressed"; that is, they were made by hand

or in a "soft-mud" machine, and then, after drying for a while, were

put into a re-pressing machine to give them a smooth finish. These

machines are still used, but they are hardly necessary, for the

"dry-clay" brick machine will turn out a smooth brick in one

operation.

Another substance which is made of almost the same materials as brick

is terra cotta. To make this, fire brick, bits of pottery, partly

burned clay, and fine white sand are ground to a powder and mixed very

thoroughly. This mixture is moulded, dried, and burned. Until

recently, all terra cotta was of the color that is called by that

name, but now it is made in gray, white, and bronze as well.

Bricks are laid in mortar, and this makes a wall one solid mass and

stronger than it could be without any cement. But mortar does more

than this. It is more elastic than brick, and therefore, when a wall

settles, the mortar yields a little, and this often prevents the

bricks from cracking. Bricks are always thirsty, and if one is laid in

mortar, it will suck the moisture out of it almost as a sponge will

suck up water. The mortar thus has no chance to set, and so is not

strong as it should be. That is why the bricklayer wets his bricks,

especially in summer, before he puts them in place. Lime or cement

mortar will not set in freezing weather, and a brick building put up

in the winter is in danger of tumbling down when the warm days of

spring arrive.

This thirstiness of bricks is their greatest fault. Three or four days

of driving rain will sometimes wet through a brick wall two feet

thick, crumbling the plaster and spoiling the wallpaper. That is why

it is a poor plan to plaster directly on the brick wall of a house.

"Furring" strips, as they are called, or narrow strips of wood, should

be fastened on first and the laths nailed to these, or the wall can be

painted or oiled on the outside. The best way, however, though more

expensive, is to build the wall double. Then there is air between the

two thicknesses of brick. Air is a poor conductor of heat; so in

summer it keeps the heat out, and in winter it keeps it in.

But brick will suck up water from the ground as well as from a storm;

and therefore, when a brick house is to be built in a wet place, there

ought to be a three-eighths-inch layer of something waterproof, like

asphalt and coal tar, put on top of one of the layers of brickwork to

prevent the moisture from creeping up.

Bricks have their faults, but they will not burn, and when properly

used, they make a most comfortable and enduring house.

V

AT THE GOLD DIGGINGS

When gold was first discovered in California, in 1848, people from all

over the world made a frantic rush to get there, every one of them

hoping that he would be lucky enough to make his fortune, and fearing

lest the precious metal should be gone before he could even begin to

dig. The gold that these men gathered came from what were called

"placers"; that is, masses of gravel and sand along the beds of

mountain streams. Each miner had a pan of tin or iron, which he filled

half-full of the gravel, or "pay dirt," as the miners called it. Then,

holding it under water, he shook off the stones and mud over the side

of the pan, leaving grains of gold mixed with black sand at the

bottom. This black sand was iron, and after a while the miners removed

it with a magnet, dried what remained, and blew away the dust, leaving

only the grains of gold.

Another contrivance which soon came into use was the "cradle." This

was a long box, sometimes only a hollowed-out log. At the top was a

sieve which sifted out the stones. Nailed to the bottom of the cradle

were small cleats of wood, or "riffles," which kept the water from

running so fast as to sweep the gold out of the cradle with it. The

cradle was placed on rockers and was also tilted slightly. The miner

shoveled the gravel into the top of the cradle and his partner rocked

it. The sieve kept back the stones, the water broke up the lumps of

earth and gravel and washed them down the cradle, and the grains of

gold were stopped by the riffles, and sank to the bottom. Sometimes

the "pay dirt" continued under a stream. To get at it, the miners

often built a little canal and turned the water into a new channel;

then they could work on the former bed of the river.

Before many years had passed, the gold that was near the surface had

been gathered. The miners then followed the streams up into the

mountains, and found that much of the gold had come from beds where in

ancient times rivers had flowed. There was gold still remaining in

these beds, but it was poorly distributed, the miners thought.

Sometimes there would be quite an amount in one place, and then the

miner would dig for days without finding any more. Even worse than

this was the fact that these gravel beds were not on the top of the

ground, but were covered up with soil and trees. Evidently the slow

work with pans and cradles would not pay here; but it occurred to some

one that if a powerful stream of water could be directed against the

great banks of earth, as water is directed against a burning building,

they would crumble, the dirt could be washed down sluices, and the

gold be saved. This was done. Great reservoirs were built high up in

the mountains, and water was brought by means of ditches or pipes to a

convenient place. Then it was allowed to rush furiously through a

hose and nozzle, and the great stream coming with tremendous force was

played upon the banks of gravel. The banks crumbled, the gravel was

washed into a string of sluices, or long boxes with riffles to catch

the gold. Soon the miners found that if quicksilver was put into these

sluices, it would unite with the gold and make a sort of paste called

"amalgam." Then if this amalgam was heated, the quicksilver would be

driven off in the form of gas, and the gold would remain in a

beautiful yellow mass.

[Illustration: HYDRAULIC GOLD MINING

A placer mine at Gold Point, California, where tremendous streams of

water under high pressure are busy washing away the side of a

gold-bearing hill.]

The ancient rivers had also carried gold to the valleys, and to

collect this a dredge, which the miners called a "gold ship," came

into use. The "ship" part of this machine is an immense flat scow.

Stretching out from one end is something which looks like a moving

ladder. This is the support of an endless chain of buckets, each of

which can bite into the gravel and take a mouthful of five or six

hundred pounds. They drop this gravel into a big drum which is

continually revolving. Water flows through the drum, and washes out

the sand and bits of gold over large tables, where by means of riffles

and quicksilver the gold is captured. This scow was usually on dry

land at first; but its digging soon made a lake, and then it floated.

It must be more fascinating to hold a pan in your own hands and pick

out little grains of gold or perhaps even a big piece of it with your

own fingers, but if the gravel is good the dredge makes more money.

In Alaska the great difficulty in mining is that, except at the

surface, the ground is frozen all the year round. At first, the miners

used to thaw the place where they wished to dig by building wood

fires; but this was a slow method, and now the thawing is done by

steam. They carry the steam in a pipe to the place where the digging

is to be done, and send it through a hose. At the end of the hose is a

pointed steel tube. They hammer this tube into the ground and let some

steam pass through the nozzle. This softens the ground so that picks

and shovels may be used. There is generally cold enough in Alaska, but

once at least the miners had to manufacture it. The gold-bearing

gravel was deep, the ground was flat, and it was often overflowed.

They set up a freezing plant, and shut in their land with a bulkhead

of ice several feet thick. Then they pumped out what water was already

in and did their work with no more trouble.

When gold began to grow less in the California gravel, the miners

looked for it in the rocks on the mountain-side. The placer miners

laughed at them and called their shafts "coyote holes"; but in time

the placers failed, while nearly all of our gold to-day comes from

veins of white quartz in the rocks. A vein of gold is the most

capricious thing in the world. It may be so tiny that it can hardly be

seen, then widen and grow rich in gold, then suddenly come to an end.

This is why a new mine is so uncertain an enterprise. The gold may

hold out and bring fortunes to the investors, or it may fail, and then

all they will have to show for their money is the memory that they

put it into a hole in the ground. The managers of a few of the

well-established mines, however, have explored so far as to make sure

that there is gold enough for many years of digging.

The mining engineer must be a very wide-awake man. It is not enough

for him simply to remember what was taught him in the schools of

mining; he must be bright enough to invent new ways of meeting

difficulties. No two mines are alike, and he must be ready for all

sorts of emergencies. A gold mine now consists of a shaft or pit dug

several hundred feet down into the rock, with levels or galleries

running off from it and with big openings like rooms made where the

rock was dug out. The roofs of the rooms are supported by great

timbers. To break away the rock, the miner makes a hole with a rock

drill worked by electricity or compressed air, puts powder or dynamite

into the hole and explodes it. The broken rock is then raised to the

surface and crushed in a "stamping mill." Here the ore is fed into a

great steel box called a "mortar." Five immense hammers, often

weighing a thousand pounds apiece, drop down upon the ore, one after

another, until it is fine enough to go through a wire screen in the

front of the box. When two hundred or more of these hammers are

pounding away with all their might, a stamping mill is a pretty noisy

place. The ore, crushed to a fine mud, now runs over sloping tables

covered with copper. Sticking to the top of the copper is a film of

quicksilver. This holds fast whatever gold there may be and makes an

amalgam, which is scraped off from time to time, and the quicksilver

is driven from the gold by heat.

Gold that is not united with other metals is called "free milling

gold." Much of it, however, is found in combination with one metal or

another, and is known as "rebellious" or "refractory" gold. Such gold

may sometimes be set free by heat, and sometimes by chemicals. One way

is by the use of chlorine gas, and the story of it sounds almost like

"The house that Jack built." It might run somewhat like this: This is

the salt that furnishes the chlorine. This is the chlorine gas that

unites with the gold. This is the chloride that is formed when the

chlorine gas unites with the gold. This is the water that washes from

the tank the chloride that is formed when the chlorine gas unites with

the gold. This is the sulphate of iron that unites with the chlorine

gas of the chloride that the water washes from the tank that is formed

when the chlorine gas unites with the gold--and leaves the gold free.

Another method is by the use of cyanide. More than a century ago a

chemist discovered that if gold was put into water containing a little

cyanide, the gold would dissolve, while quartz and any metals that

might be united with the gold would settle in the tank. The water in

which the gold is dissolved is now run into boxes full of shavings of

zinc and is "precipitated" upon them; that is, the tiny particles of

gold in the water fall upon the zinc and cling to it. Zinc melts more

easily than gold, so if this gilded zinc is put into a furnace, the

zinc melts and the gold is set free.

Very often gold is found combined with lead or copper. It must then be

melted or smelted in great furnaces. The metal is heavier than the

rock and settles to the bottom of the furnace. It is then drawn off

and the gold is separated from the other metals, usually by

electricity.

Sometimes large pieces of gold called "nuggets" are found by miners.

The largest one known was found in Australia. It weighed 190 pounds

and was worth $42,000. Sometimes spongy lumps of gold are found; but

as a general thing gold comes from the little specks scattered through

veins in rock, and much work has to be done before it can be made into

coins or jewelry. It is too soft for such uses unless some alloy,

usually copper or silver, is mixed with it to make it harder.

Sometimes it is desirable to know how much alloy has been added. The

jeweler then makes a line with the article on a peculiar kind of black

stone called a "touchstone," and by the color of the golden mark he

can tell fairly well how nearly pure the article is. To be more

accurate, he pours nitric acid upon the mark. This eats away the alloy

and leaves only the gold.

Gold is a wonderful metal. It is of beautiful color; it can be

hammered so thin that the light will shine through it; few acids

affect it, and the oxygen which eats away iron does not harm it. Pure

gold is spoken of as being "twenty-four carats fine," from _carat_, an

old weight equal to one twenty-fourth of an ounce troy. Watchcases

are from eight to eighteen carats fine; chains are seldom more than

fourteen; and the gold coins of the United States are about eleven

parts of gold and one of copper. Coins wear in passing from one person

to another, and that is why the edges are milled, so that it may be

more easily seen when they have become too light to be used as coins.

When such pieces come into the hands of the Government, they must be

recoined.

VI

THE STORY OF A SILVER MINE

A man who goes out in search of a mine is called a "prospector." The

best prospector is a man who has learned to keep his eyes open and to

recognize the signs of gold and silver and other metals. A faithful

friend goes with him, a donkey or mule which carries his bacon and

beans, blankets, saucepan, and a few tools, such as a pan, pick,

shovel, hammer, and axe. Sometimes the prospector also takes with him

a magnifying glass and a little acid to test specimens, but usually he

trusts to his eyes alone.

When these few things have been brought together, the prospector and

the donkey set out. They wander over the hills and down into the

canyons. If a rock is stained red, the prospector examines it to see

whether it contains iron; if it is green, he looks for copper. In the

canyons and along the creeks he often tests the gravel for traces of

some valuable metal. If he finds any of these traces along the stream,

he follows them on the bank until they stop; then he carefully

examines the bank of the stream or the nearest hillside. If he

continues to find bits of metal, they will lead him to a vein of ore,

from which they have been broken by the wind, rain, and frost.

Generally a prospector is looking for some one special metal, and in

his search he often overlooks some other metal; for instance,

thousands of the gold-seekers who rushed to California in 1849 hurried

through Nevada on their way. If they had only known what was under

their feet, they would have taken their picks and shovels and begun to

dig, instead of trying to get out of the region as soon as might be.

Ten years later, the California placers were becoming exhausted, and

miners began to go elsewhere in their search for gold.

Among those who were working in what is now the State of Nevada were

two Irishmen who had been unlucky in California and had fared no

better in Nevada. They wanted to go somewhere else, but they had not

money enough for the journey; so they kept on with their work at the

foot of Mount Davidson, washing the gravel and saving the little gold

that they found. They were annoyed by some heavy black stuff that

united with the quicksilver in their cradles, interfered with the

saving of the gold, and put them in a very bad temper. At length a man

named Henry Comstock came along, who told them that this black stuff

was silver ore. They examined the mountain-side, and discovered the

outcrop or edge of a great vein containing gold and also silver. It is

no wonder that people rushed from the east and west to the wonderful

new mines, for it was plain that these new "diggings" were not mere

placers, but rich veins that many years of working might not exhaust.

Every newcomer hoped to discover a vein; and within a year or two the

district around the Comstock lode was full of deep shafts, many of

them abandoned and half-hidden by low brush, but some of them yielding

quantities of gold and silver. Before this, there had been only about

a thousand people in what is now Nevada, but in two years after the

discovery of silver, there were 16,000, and a new Territory was

formed.

The miners knew how to get gold out of ore, but silver was another

matter, and some of it was difficult to extract. They had so much

trouble that they were ready to believe in any treatment of the ore,

no matter how absurd, that promised to help them out of their

difficulties. Some of them were actually persuaded that the juice of

the wild sagebrush would bring the silver out. It is no wonder that

they were troubled, for in the Comstock lode were not only gold and

silver, but ten or twelve other metals or combinations of silver with

something else. At length processes were invented for treating the

different kinds of ore. Some kinds were crushed in a stamping mill,

then ground to a powder and mixed with quicksilver or mercury. This

mercury united with both the gold and the silver, making an amalgam.

The amalgam, together with the finely ground ore, was put into a

"settler," and here the heavy amalgam sank to the bottom and was then

strained. The extra mercury was collected, and the amalgam was put

into a retort or kettle and heated. The mercury became a gas and was

driven off from the gold and silver, then caught in a vessel cool

enough to condense it, just as a cold plate held in steam will

collect drops of water. Sometimes the ore was mixed with copper and

lead. In that case common salt and copper sulphate were used. Some ore

had to be roasted in a furnace in order to drive off the sulphur.

[Illustration: THE STORY OF A SPOON

_Courtesy The Gorham Co._

(1) Silver strip blanked. (2) Pinched. (3) Graded. (4) Outlining of

Handle. (5) Stamped Handle. (6) Spoon completely trimmed. (7, 8)

Finished spoons.]

There were great and unusual dangers to be met in getting the ore. The

vein of quartz which bore it was fifty or sixty feet wide. Some was

hard, and some so soft and crumbling that pillars would not hold up

the roof. The passageways were then lined with heavy logs standing on

either side, other logs laid across their tops, and all bolted firmly

together. Nevertheless, they twisted and fell, and slowly but

certainly the whole mass of earth and rock, two hundred or more feet

in thickness, was coming down upon the heads of the miners. The work

on the Comstock mines had come to an end unless a man could be found

able to invent some system of support not laid down in the books. The

man was found. He took short, square timbers five or six feet long,

put them together as if they were the sides and ends of square boxes,

and piled them one above another, making hollow pillars. He fastened

these firmly together and filled the space inside with waste rock,

thus making strong, solid pillars that would support almost any weight

that could be put upon them.

There were two other dangers, water and heat. The vein was porous and

water was constantly trickling out of it. Then, too, there were "water

pockets," or natural reservoirs in the rock, and any moment the

stroke of a pick might let out a torrent and force the miners to run

for their lives. Sometimes minerals were dissolved in this water, and

the men with closed eyes and swollen faces had to be hurried to the

surface for treatment. Powerful pumps had to be used and the water

sent away through long lines of pipes. This water was warm, and in

very deep workings in the Comstock vein it was boiling hot. Even with

quantities of ice sent down to cool them, the men could work in some

places only a short time.

In San Francisco there was a mining engineer named Adolph Sutro who

planned to remedy these troubles by driving a big four-mile tunnel

through the heart of the mountain, letting out the hot water and the

foul air. The owners of some of the mines joined him in raising the

money, and the tunnel was dug. Through this the water ran out. The

mines were freed of foul air and fresh air was driven in.

The Comstock lode has given up an amazing amount of precious metal.

Between 1860 and 1890 it produced $340,000,000. After 1890, however,

its product grew less. The vein was not so rich, the price of silver

fell, while the cost of mining it at great depths increased. Not

nearly so much was mined, and at length water rose in the mines up to

the level of the Sutro Tunnel. In 1900 new machinery was put in and

new methods were adopted, such as treating the tailings with cyanide

and so saving much of the precious metal from them. From the beginning

the Comstock mines have been so ready to follow improved methods that

they have been called the mining school of the world.

Great quantities of silver are used for making jewelry and for

tableware. The one objection to its use is that silver likes to unite

with sulphur, and thus the silver easily becomes black. There is

sulphur in the yolk of an egg and that is why the spoon with which it

has been eaten turns black. Even if silverware is not used, it

tarnishes, especially in towns, because there is so much sulphureted

hydrogen in the air. In perfectly pure air, it would not tarnish.

Silver is harder than gold, but not hard enough to be used without

some alloy, usually copper. Tableware is "solid" even if it contains

alloy enough to stiffen it. It is "plated" if it is made of some

cheaper metal and covered with silver. The old way of doing this was

to fasten with bits of solder a thin sheet of silver to the cup or

vase or whatever was in hand and heat it. This did fairly well for

large, smooth articles; but it was almost impossible to finish the

edges of spoons so as not to show the two metals. If you look at a

plated spoon to-day, however, you will find that there is no break at

the edge, and so far as you can tell by the eye, it is solid silver.

If you look on the back of the spoon, you will perhaps see "Rogers

Bros. 1846." These men were the first silvermakers in this country to

plate tableware by electricity. To make a spoon, they formed one out

of iron or copper and made sure that it was perfectly clean. Then

across a bath of silver cyanide, potassium cyanide, and water they

laid two metal rods, and from these they hung a spoon at one end and a

plate of silver at the other. These rods were connected with the two

poles of a battery. The electrical current passed through them,

released the silver from the silver cyanide, and this was deposited

upon the spoon. The cyanide that had lost its silver took enough more

from the silver plate to make up. The amount of silver on the spoon

depends upon the length of time it remains in the bath. It is weighed

before plating and again afterwards, to make sure that the proper

amount of silver has been deposited upon it. On the back of many

plated articles you will see the words "Triple plate" or "Quadruple

plate." If the article has been made by a reliable firm, this means

that the triple plate it manufactures contains three times as much

silver as "single plate," and that quadruple plate contains four times

as much. A piece of silver looks just as well if it has stayed in the

bath only a few minutes, but of course it has taken on so little

silver that this will soon wear off and show the cheaper metal.

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