The armour-plated ship _Resistance_ was lately the subject of some

interesting and highly practical experiments at Portsmouth. The

ship’s armour is four and a half inches in thickness, and this armour

was backed up in various places—for the purpose of experiment—with

india-rubber and asbestos, in order to see how far these materials

might be relied upon as automatic leak-stoppers. A little fleet of

gunboats now fired upon the vessel at short range, sending shot after

shot completely through the armour, and penetrating the india-rubber

backing, which measured an inch and a half in thickness. The armour

when protected with an outer jacket of india-rubber fared no better.

Much the same results were obtained when the shots were directed to

that part of the hull of the vessel which had been provided with a

backing of asbestos. The water poured so freely through the shot-holes,

that they had to be plugged, to obviate the risk of the vessel sinking.

In the sequel, it was unanimously agreed that both india-rubber and

asbestos are quite valueless as additions to armour-plating.

Mr Mallet, of the University of Virginia, describes a most unusual

phenomenon which occurred in the laboratory of that institution last

winter, in the shape of explosive ice. The ice in question formed in

the glass vessel of a gasogene—the familiar apparatus for charging

water with carbonic acid gas. The expansion of the ice burst the

vessel, after which the ice itself exploded repeatedly, and threw off

fragments with a crackling sound. The effect is attributed to the

pressure of the gas contained in the ice, which in the case of water

would appear as simple effervescence.

Steel sleepers for railways, in lieu of the rough wooden ones formerly

employed, are now coming into greatly extended use, and there are

few railways where they are not being tried either experimentally or

adopted permanently. In the underground workings of collieries, the

maintenance of wooden sleepers forms an important item of expense,

and there is every hope that steel sleepers will take their place. Mr

Colquhoun, the general manager of the Tredegar Iron and Coal Company,

has invented a form of steel sleeper for this particular purpose. Its

sides are corrugated, and it has two projecting fangs at each end,

which clutch the ground upon which it is laid. The complete weight of

the sleeper and its fittings is only sixteen and a half pounds. It has

been on trial in some of the South Wales collieries, and has given

every satisfaction.

The _Lancet_ lately called attention to a singular tradition bearing

upon infant mortality, which is widely circulated and believed in.

An inquest was held upon a child five weeks old which had been found

in bed suffocated beside her mother. Death was attributed to a cat

getting on the bed and sucking the breath of the child. There seemed

to be no evidence against the cat; indeed, the animal did not appear

upon the scene. The _Lancet_ points out that death was no doubt due to

overlaying by the parent, and that ‘breath-sucking’ is probably a myth,

or it would ere now have been proved by observation.

An American inventor, Mr A. Hardt, has patented an arrangement for

using very small slack coal as fuel for boiler-firing. The apparatus

consists of two fireclay retorts—very much after the pattern of the

retorts used in gas factories—which are placed immediately above the

ordinary firebox. Each retort has a slide in the bottom, which can

be withdrawn so as to empty it of its contents. In addition to this,

each has a tube of fireclay reaching from the back part of the retort

into the fire beneath. The action of the apparatus is as follows:

The retorts are charged with slack, which by the heat of the fire is

gradually coked, while the gas evolved from it is carried to the fire

beneath. When all the gas has been driven off, the sliding bottom of

the retort is withdrawn, and the coke falls into the furnace, to form

fresh fuel. Two retorts are employed, so that one can always remain at

work while the other is being recharged.

Mr F. Siemens has invented a new method of repairing furnace-linings

while at a white-heat, which will be found very useful in steel and

glass furnaces where high temperatures are necessarily employed.

Under such temperatures, the sides of furnaces become softened, and

quartz powder or sand projected against the soft places will readily

adhere. Mr Siemens’ apparatus for compassing this end consists of a

small wagon, upon which are mounted a fan and a movable pipe like

a fire-hose, which can be made to direct a blast in any required

direction. The nozzle attached to the pipe is introduced into the

furnace-doors, and the sand is blown against the particular part of the

furnace-lining which may require reparation.

The tricycle is being gradually applied to so many different purposes,

that it can no longer be regarded as a means merely of healthy

exercise. Traders use it largely for the delivery of small parcels;

postmen in country districts depend upon it as a useful steed; the

military genius of the Germans is turning it to account for the

battlefield; and in many ways its value is receiving increased

recognition. Its last application is in the form of an auxiliary to

the fire brigade. The tricycle in question embodies the following

parts: It contains a hosereel, with a quantity of hose specially

constructed to wind up into a very small compass; a light double-pump

fire-engine, capable of throwing twenty-five gallons of water per

minute; a collapsible cistern to hold water; and a simple fire-escape

with descending ropes and bag. Two men can run the tricycle at full

speed, and the pedal action can afterwards be applied to pumping. The

apparatus has been introduced by Mr Glenister, chief of the volunteer

fire brigade of Hastings, in conjunction with Mr J. C. Merryweather of

London.

The French scientific journal _La Nature_ describes and illustrates a

machine for making a product which is coming into favour in various

different employments under the name of wood-wool. As its name

implies, this material is simply wood cut into such fine shavings that

it answers many of the purposes to which wool is commonly applied.

Although it was at first intended merely as a packing material, it was

soon found that it had a much more extended field of usefulness. It

is being employed for stuffing mattresses, as bedding for cattle, for

the filtration of liquids, &c. It is elastic like horsehair, and is

beautifully clean in use. The wood used by preference is Riga fir; and

the machine will produce, without any necessity for skilled labour,

more than fifteen hundred pounds of ‘wool’ per day of ten hours.

A cart-wheel without axle, axle-boxes, grease-boxes, and journals,

seems to be something akin to an impossibility; but such a thing has

been produced and exhibited at the Palace of Industry, Paris, by M.

Suc. Its principle is this: Suppose that we have two grooved rails,

and that we place one on the ground with its groove uppermost. In this

groove we then place a number of steel balls, and above them we place

the other rail with its groove downwards. Thus placed, the two grooves

are facing one another, while the balls are embraced by both, so that

if we push the upper rail, it will slide over the lower one, owing to

the simple rotation of the balls. Imagine the two rails to be bent into

a circle, with the balls still between them, and we have the principle

of M. Suc’s axleless wheel. The inner part is fixed to the wagon; and

the outer part, consisting merely of a grooved rim, works round it with

the balls between. The thing seems to be wonderfully ingenious; but we

doubt whether it would work so well as the old-fashioned form of wheel.

A dusty road would try its powers to the utmost.

A somewhat elaborate plan for keeping railway foot-warmers hot has been

devised by M. Tommasi, a French electrician. He proposes that after the

foot-warmers have been charged with their hot solution of acetate of

soda—as is commonly done on the French railways, and on some few lines

in Britain—the heat should be kept up by electricity. The current to

maintain this heat would be obtained from a dynamo driven off an axle

of the carriage-wheels, and would be carried to all the foot-warmers

throughout the train. We should think that it would be a far easier

and less expensive plan to utilise some of the waste heat from the

locomotive, which might be applied to the carriages by means of pipes.

Has this plan ever been tried?

The cultivation of tobacco in Kent is an experiment which many

agriculturists are observing with keen interest. So far, the experiment

has been a success, and this in spite of very unfavourable weather, and

the presence of unusual quantities of destructive pests in the shape of

insects. We are told that earwigs have done a great amount of damage

to the plants, for they have been chewing tobacco ever since the leaves

came to maturity. According to the opinion of experts, Kent is the most

suitable place in this country for the culture of tobacco. Not only is

the soil suited to the growth of the plant, but the same oast houses

which are used for drying the hops, and whose conical tops form such a

noteworthy feature of the Kentish landscape, can be readily adapted to

drying the tobacco leaves. It is thought, indeed, that hops and tobacco

might be grown on the same land, and form a combined industry which

would pay well.

M. l’Hoste, the French aëronaut who recently crossed the Channel by

means of a balloon, made use of a piece of apparatus which seems

to represent some advance in the art of aërial travelling. This

contrivance was dragged in the water of the Channel from a rope

attached to the balloon. By this means the aërostat was kept at a

certain height above the water. But it served a further purpose than

this. By its means water was drawn up into the car and utilised as

ballast. Formerly, ballast once thrown out of the car could not be

recovered; but by this invention it can be picked up when the balloon

is travelling over water. We may note that Mr Green, one of the most

celebrated balloonists, made use of an inverted cone, attached to a

rope, when travelling over water. This cone acted as an anchor to the

balloon, keeping it a certain height above the water, and at the same

time allowing it to drift along.

A Report was lately read at the French Academy of Medicine referring

to an operation which was successfully conducted by the help of a

magnet. A patient who was by profession a sword-swallower at fairs,

had, while at a restaurant, amused some companions by hiding a steel

fork in his throat. By an accident, the fork reached to a lower point

than the experimenter had reckoned for, and a surgical operation

became imperative. By means of a strong magnet, the fork was moved to

a position, where a simple incision soon relieved the sufferer of this

unwelcome intruder.

The divers employed on the wreck of the ill-fated _Oregon_ have almost

finished their labours. Six men have been at work upon the wreck, each

man remaining under water for from half an hour to one hour at a time.

The cargo of the vessel chiefly consisted of bales of cotton; and the

divers were furnished with hooks, like workmen employed in the same

business on dry land, with which they could grasp and handle the bales.

These were attached to steam pulleys, and hauled on board the wrecking

vessel. To get at the mail-room, the side of the submerged vessel had

to be blown in with dynamite, but much of the mail-matter was spoilt

by the water before this was done. The divers report that the vessel

is fast breaking up; her bow has fallen over into the sand, and she is

broken in two between the mainmast and the foremast, although some of

her spars are still visible above water.

Dr H. J. Fox announces in the _St Louis Medical Journal_ that creosote

is almost a certain cure for erysipelas, for he has treated some

hundreds of cases with only one fatal result. The affected parts are

kept constantly covered with cloths soaked in a solution of creosote

in water—six to twenty drops of creosote to one ounce of water; or a

poultice may be formed by stirring ground elm into the solution so as

to make a paste.

At the Birmingham Art Gallery, a new method of illuminating the

pictures is being tried. In the centre of the room is a suspended ring

of ninety-six Swan incandescent lamps, each of twenty candle-power.

Within this ring is a series of silvered glass reflectors bent to such

a curve as will insure the pictures being well illuminated without any

reflection from their surfaces. The arrangement has been devised by

Messrs Chamberlain and Hookham.

A Report has recently been published by Mr Verbeck, who was deputed to

inquire into the origin and character of the terrible volcanic outburst

at Krakatoa, in the Straits of Sunda, two years ago. He calculates

that the amount of matter ejected from the volcano was equal to a

mass measuring at least ten cubic miles, and that the velocity with

which this matter was thrown into the atmosphere was greater than the

projecting power of the biggest of big guns. He considers that the

ejected matter must have reached a height of thirty miles; that is,

about six times the height of the highest mountain in the world. The

explosions were heard over a fourteenth part of the earth’s surface;

and an atmospheric wave travelled from the scene of disturbance, and

spread itself over the surface of the globe in thirty-six hours.

We are glad to see that a Society for the Protection of Birds has been

instituted in New York. It seems to be akin to the Plumage League

recently incorporated in our own country, while its aims are more

comprehensive. Its chief object is to protect birds not used for food

from destruction for mercantile purposes, and it will also endeavour

to secure and publish information relative to the present enormous

destruction of birds for the purposes of dress, decoration, and general

adaptation to fancy articles. It will also point out in its teachings

the bad results which must in time accrue to agriculture from the

wanton destruction of birds which prey upon insect life. The robbing of

birds’ nests and the destruction of eggs will also be discouraged by

the Society.

Among the papyri which have recently been brought to Vienna from El

Fayoum was one which, according to those who have deciphered it,

mentioned the existence of a city in Lower Egypt which seems to have

completely vanished. The document in question is a papyrus four feet

long by one foot wide. It contains a marriage contract between one

Theon and his bride Maria, with the signature of witnesses and a

notary. All these people are described as belonging to the city of

Justianopolis. No mention of this place can be found among any lists

of places which exist. The papyrus is supposed to date from the sixth

century.

The dispute as to the permanence or non-permanence of water-colour

drawings has received a fresh contribution from the pen of Mr E. A.

Goodall, whose father engraved a certain drawing of Turner’s which is

now in the national collection. It had been pointed out, as a proof of

the fugitive nature of the pigments which the great painter employed,

that many details which appear in the engraving in question are not

now visible in the original drawing. Mr Goodall, however, says that

these details never were visible in the painting, it being the custom

of Turner, when proofs were submitted to him for approval, to touch up

those proofs and to introduce new effects—clouds, figures, &c., which

were not in the original work.

Mr W. A. Gibbs, whose name in connection with hay-drying apparatus

will be remembered, has lately turned his attention to a machine for

‘withering’ tea after the leaves have been curled and twisted in the

rolling-mill. This is brought about by submitting the damp leaves to

a current of dry air, which speedily desiccates the mass. The machine

consists of a revolving fan in an iron casing mounted on a pair of

wheels, with a small coke-fire in a box in front of it. There is a

hand-wheel to drive the fan, and handles attached to the casing, so

that the contrivance can readily be moved from place to place. There

is an inlet and outlet for the air, the latter passing over the fire.

In front of the inlet there is a cage, in which are placed lumps of

chloride of calcium, a salt which has the property of absorbing all

moisture within its reach, and which when saturated can easily be

restored to its former state by heating. It can thus be used over and

over again, so that first cost is the only expense. By this apparatus a

dry air can be delivered without the employment of any excessive heat,

and such conditions give the best results in the desiccation of tea.

Mr Gibbs has also devised a machine for the rapid drying of fibrous

materials, which will doubtless be found valuable in many branches of

trade and manufacture.

A TALE OF TWO KNAVERIES.

IN FOUR CHAPTERS.—CONCLUSION.

Uncle Franklin drew towards his end. It soon became evident that that

grim churchyard experiment which he had suggested would in his case

be entirely unnecessary. As he sank lower and lower, and the cruel,

icy grasp clutched his labouring heart more often and more fiercely,

Lucy found herself almost a fixture at his side. He could hardly bear

her absence, however short; and when the fits of palpitation were upon

him, he seemed to hold on to life by her hand alone. He would talk

to her when he was able—talk of business, nothing but business and

money, always money, until the gold seemed to jingle in her brain as

though it were the inside of a till. It was very trying and wearing;

but tenderness of heart and compassion for this unloved and desolate

old money-worshipper, whose idol had failed him at his need, this

spoiler whom a hand more ruthless than his own was spoiling, kept her

staunch to her post. She thought little of her expectations, and that

only for her husband’s sake; in the presence of this aimless, endless

money-babble from the lips of a suffering and dying man, the idea of

her possible and probable inheritance had grown almost distasteful to

her; and Uncle Franklin had not as yet broached the subject of his

will.

There came, however, a day when, with the last words he ever spoke, he

for the first time broke his silence in this respect. The doctor had

paid his daily visit, and had gone away with that shake of the head and

significant look which tells that human skill has done its utmost. The

patient was lying in a half-doze, and Lucy was sitting by the bedside,

when he suddenly opened his eyes and fixed them full upon her. ‘It’s

nearly over, my girl,’ he said. ‘You have done your duty by me, and I

thank you. You’ll find I have kept my promise. When the time comes,

send to my solicitor, Blackford of Southampton Buildings—he’ll know

what to do.’ He closed his eyes after speaking these words, and seemed

to sleep again. That night he died, quietly and without a struggle. It

was in the third week after the making of the second will.

Those were days of anxious reflection for Mr Blackford. Business was

more than commonly ‘slack’ with him, so that he was able to give his

undivided attention to his little scheme. Even Willoughby had failed

to renew his visits, a circumstance which almost escaped the lawyer’s

notice, so preoccupied was he with things of greater moment.

What course should he now adopt? How should he best use his advantage?

Nobody save himself knew of the hiding-place, or even of the existence

of the later will, unless the testator should have altered his mind.

Somehow or other, he must manage to substitute the earlier will for the

later. But how? There appeared to be but one way in which to do what

must be done; it was a way which demanded courage, self-possession, and

unflinching nerve; for a moment’s faltering or bungling would in all

probability bring about a shameful and disastrous failure. That way Mr

Blackford determined to take; and so waited as patiently as he might

for the news of Mr Franklin’s death and the expected summons to the

house.

Both came together; the latter in a form which he did not expect, and

which discomposed him a good deal—in the form, namely, of an invitation

to the funeral. Lucy said in her letter that Mr Franklin had stated

that his solicitor would know how to act with reference to his affairs;

and that both she and her husband felt that it would be more seemly to

defer any such action until the dead man had been laid in his grave.

But on reflection, Mr Blackford was less dissatisfied than at first

with this arrangement. It was a delicate and difficult operation which

he had to perform; possibly it might be carried out with greater ease

in the confusion and excitement of a crowd, than under the undistracted

scrutiny of only two pairs of eyes. All that he had to do was to

slightly amend his plan of action to suit the altered circumstances.

He replied to the letter with graceful condolence, asking that, in

pursuance of the testator’s wishes as communicated to himself, all the

family might be summoned to hear the will read after the funeral.

This was done accordingly; and when the company had returned from the

ceremony, Mr Blackford found himself in the presence of a tolerably

numerous and not too good-tempered assemblage, in Tom Wedlake’s

dining-room. By this general invitation, vanished hopes had been

revived, almost forgotten jealousies and suspicions had blossomed anew;

and in every face, repressed truculence and ready defiance were thinly

varnished over with the expression proper to the occasion. The general

hostility brought itself to a focus upon Tom and Lucy, who were treated

by all but the latter’s own parents with severely guarded affection.

The solicitor rose from his chair and addressed the expectant relatives

with decorous gravity. He had carefully weighed and rehearsed every

word which was to be spoken, for he had to pass through an ordeal which

would test his coolness and readiness to the utmost. It was necessary

in the first place to clear his way—to make sure that there was no

unsuspected information in the possession of any present which might

upset all his calculations in a moment.

‘It is now my duty,’ said he, ‘to read the will of the late Mr

Franklin. But may I first ask, whether any one here happens to be aware

of the intentions of the deceased with regard to the disposition of his

property?’

There was no reply. All eyes were turned significantly and

mistrustfully upon Tom and Lucy; but neither felt inclined to speak the

word which should let loose upon them the pent-up storm.

‘Mr and Mrs Wedlake,’ said the solicitor—and a preparatory tremor of

indignation ran through the listening group—‘were, as we know, in

closer communication of late with their uncle than any other members of

his family; perhaps they would be able to tell us something?’

Tom answered by a shake of the head, which might signify either refusal

or unwillingness. But there was an air of composure about him and his

wife which was in marked contrast with the flushed expectancy generally

prevalent, and which was calculated to give rise to exasperating

auguries.

Mr Blackford proceeded: ‘I regret this very much, for it renders my

task all the more difficult and unpleasant. But that I cannot help.

It is by no fault or interposition of my own that things are—as they

will presently appear. Neither is it for me to question the testator’s

wisdom or his right to do as he pleased with his own. I can only say

that I used all my powers of persuasion to divert Mr Franklin from

his purpose, but unavailingly; therefore, I could only act as I was

instructed.’

Curiosity was excited by these words to the highest pitch; it was

evident that they portended some disaster, and an angry buzz began to

make itself heard.

‘The first thing to be done,’ continued the solicitor, ‘is to produce

Mr Franklin’s will. It is in his bedroom; and, with the permission of

Mr and Mrs Wedlake, I will now go and fetch it.’

Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, fifth series, no. 143, vol. III, September 25, 1886 · 第 2 / 3 段