from the baker, who was, indeed, barely civil to him; but his time was not wholly wasted, for while he was speaking, Miss Bessy, with the most natural and engaging unconsciousness in the world, tripped to her father's side, and asked him some question relative to the books on which she was engaged. The baker, who spoke rather thickly and hoarsely, answered her with as much indifference as if she had been the journeyman; and the girl, sending one swift and apparently accidental glance right through the stranger, went back to her desk. Taking a very hasty leave of the tradesman, Vann went his way towards the west end of London. 'What finger? I did not know he had lost one,' said Vann, forgetting that he was keeping his intimate business relations with the firm of Perrow and Son from his companion. 'Well, I shouldn't suppose you did,' said the other, with some little contempt in his tone: ‘he isn't likely to tell everybody he meets about it. But he has lost the last finger on his left hand, as I have seen; and if you ever meet him again, you notice if he don't always keep his glove on that hand.' 'Well,' returned Vann, with a short laugh, 'I don't suppose I shall see him again in a hurry. However, I am very glad to find he is lucky. If Apparition wins the big steeple-chase, I will meet you here to have a glass the night after the race.' 'It's a bargain; I'll be here!' exclaimed the other. And the two shook hands, and parted; for it had grown late. His goal was a well-known rendezvous where, at that time, betting-men of all ranks met in the evening, and although not rivalling Tattersall's in its importance, yet ranked as a very respectable auxiliary to the Corner;' and here Vann listened greedily in the vicinity of those whom he knew to be large speculators, or bookmakers. With the As Vann left the hall, he muttered to himself: freemasonry of the turf, he soon got into conversa-'It's very odd I never noticed that the governor tion with a man who had been there all the evening, and was gratified to learn that Apparition, his selected animal, was being backed heavily. In the course of half-an-hour, as they sat over their ale, Vann and his new acquaintance grew confidential, as men with a common and absorbing pursuit will do; and the clerk was enabled to give some information respecting a certain Derby outsider, which impressed his companion so much as to induce him to make a special entry in his pocket-book. He also declared his intention of backing the horse; and then and there proclaimed his willingness to stand a fiver to nothing,' or, in other words, to give Vann five pounds if it won. At this moment a voice close behind them asking, What is Apparition's price?' caused them both to look round and utter short exclamations, although from very different motives. This is a fortunate fellow,' whispered the stranger: he is often here, and is the best judge going. I knew him a long time ago, when I was abroad, but he was too much of a swell to know me then, and he's more so now.' 'Indeed,' said Vann. I have seen him also in the City. Where was he abroad?' 'Oh, well, it was abroad,' said the stranger, who did not seem disposed to enlarge on that subject. It's very likely you have seen him in the City, for he's one of the great firm of Perrow and Son. Hark!' Very good, sir,' returned a little dark man. Some bank-notes changed hands, a couple of lines were written; the transaction was complete; and the next comer was informed that nine to one was the highest possible price which could be laid against Apparition. 'So he is a lucky fellow, is he?' resumed Vann. I am glad to hear it, for I have already backed the mare. Was he always lucky?' 'O yes, I daresay he was,' said the man; but he said it curtly, as if he did not intend to be led on to talk. 'But I tell you it's a long time since I knew him, and I saw very little of him then it was before he wore an eyeglass, and he had only just lost his finger; his hand was bound up through it.' had lost a finger; but now I come to think of it, So he He was successful; he saw her during the whole of the service, and had the pleasure, too, of seeing her read from the same book and sing from the same hymns as did young Mr Banner. Despite of this discouraging state of things, the clerk lingered about the porch until he saw the group coming out, when, with a lame pretence of having just come out also, he assumed an air of great surprise, and spoke to Mr Capelmann. He was again not without his reward, for at that moment Bessy dropped her church service. Vann, being close to her, had the happiness to pick it up and restore it, receiving in return such a smile, and such a look, and a few such sweet-sounding words, as sent him home half giddy with excitement and augmented love. At the weekly attendance of Mr Spires the verger on the following Thursday for the purpose of letting sittings, one was taken by Frederick Vann, Esquire; this gentleman, in spite of Mr Spires' advice, choosing a seat in about the least eligible pew in the whole church, where, as the old clerk remarked, you couldn't hear much, and could see nothing.' But even church officials are not infallible. CHEMISTRY IN THE KITCHEN. Of all the services which industrial chemistry is likely to give us, those which concern the alimentation of the people are perhaps the most valuable, and are accepted as such by the mass. Chemists have perfectly understood this, and have proved it, by the numerous attempts they have made to furnish us with fresh articles of food, or, above all, to enable us to draw the best particles from those we already possess. Of a humble and unattractive appearance, these preparations do not draw the eye of the crowd, and pass unnoticed by many; there is nothing in their exterior quality, colour, or form, to excite curiosity. Their merit rests entirely in the principles which have directed their fabrication, and in the applications that may be made of them; they permit us to point out theory growing into practice, and how purely speculative knowledge may assist various trades. Ever since the war in the Crimea, efforts have been made for the preservation of milk; the want of it during that time of trial was seriously felt, and the problem to be resolved was, how to produce, in the smallest possible size, a nourishing beverage, which might be weakened with water when the time arrived to make use of it. If this were discovered, the sale would be large for ships on long voyages where it was not convenient to take a cow; in fortresses, or for armies in the field. Even in households, there might be times when such a preparation would be advantageous, but it concerns them less directly. The first object the managers had in view was, to procure the best kind of milk, drawn from healthy cows, and fed on fertile pastures in the open air-not, in fact, stallfed. This is heated in large flat-bottomed vessels, to which is added white sugar in a fixed proportion; whilst it is heating, continual stirring is necessary, to favour evaporation. When the quantity is reduced to one-fifth, this concentrated liquid is poured into cylindrical boxes, which are immediately closed by tin solder, to be wholly impervious to the air. The boxes thus filled are arranged in a steam-boiler heated to about a hundred and four degrees. When this process is finished, the preserved milk is ready: if, after a time, the box is opened, it will be found filled with a thick substance of a yellow white colour, and semi-transparent. Mixed with five times its weight of water, a liquid is produced presenting the appearance and offering all the character of ordinary milk. It may cause some surprise to the person mixing it to see that what is translucid as long as it is a paste, becomes opaque when placed in water. This is simply due to a phenomenon in the refraction of light. The globules being endowed with a different angle of refraction from the water, the rays of light which regularly traverse either the globules alone or the pure water, take a very irregular and broken line in the mixture of the two. It is found that this milk after being opened will keep for ten days or more, especially if care is taken always to skim a layer off the top, thus removing the surface in contact with the atmospheric air and those fermented particles which may have formed upon it. It is not difficult to explain why the process just described should be attended with a successful result. When liquid matter is heated so as to reduce it to a fifth of its primitive volume, it is nothing less than taking away the greater part of the watery particles it contains. Milk contains about thirteen parts in a hundred of sugary, fat, cheesy, and saline substances; the remaining eighty-seven parts are water: after the concentration, the proportion of water is reduced to thirtyfive parts. It is well known that the presence of water has a predominating influence on the development of many kinds of fermentation; the less water, the more the chances of preservation are increased. The sugar which is first added to the milk in a considerable quantity is also an antiseptic; it is upon this quality that the confectioner's art and all the domestic preparation of preserved fruits are based. To give an idea of the efficacy with which sugar overcomes fermentation and consequent decay, it has sometimes been observed that in barrels of molasses, which have come from the colonies, the bodies of small insects have been perfectly preserved. The last process is not the least important-that which keeps the milk for some time at a high temperature, to destroy the vitality of the fermenting particles it contains. The atmosphere that we breathe is loaded with these, which fall upon all bodies exposed to the air, and develop themselves by decomposing when favourable conditions are to be found." These particles become completely inactive, are killed, in fact, by heat of about a hundred degrees. As care has been taken hermetically to close the boxes against the air, no fresh elements can enter to replace those that have been destroyed. There is still one improvement to be desired, the preserved milk retains the flavour of boiled milk; but probably this defect will be removed in time by improved processes. Domestic economy, it may be said, has little to do with what has just been described; but there is another process with which chemists have been occupied relating more particularly to it-this is to improve the old way of preserving hams by salting and smoking. Without changing that system, which in its way is excellent, the application of it may be made more regular and complete; and it is found that the results present a real superiority over the former plan. Nothing is more simple than the theory of salting meat: kitchen salt has a great affinity for water; it draws towards it that which is contained in the muscular fibres of meat when it comes in contact with it. It is by the absorption of water, as well as by the antiseptic qualities which it possesses, that it prevents fermentation. But this absorption in ordinary salting is very irregular; whilst the outer parts of a piece of meat are saturated with salt, contracting and hardening it to the serious disadvantage of the eaters, the centre is almost withdrawn from the antiseptic action of the salt. Much of this may be diminished by adding a proportion of sugar, which makes the surface desiccation less powerful; but it is only a palliative, not reaching the original evil. After this irregular salting, the meat is submitted to the action of smoke; the tar proceeding from the combustion of wood, especially the creosote, penetrates into the pores and between the fibres, paralysing or destroying the germs of cryptogamic vegetation and fermentation. The more the action of the smoke is prolonged, penetrating deeply and in an efficacious manner, the more the flavour of the meat is likely to be spoiled by the predominant flavour which these pyrogenous matters have when condensed. The improvement sought for is produced by giving precision to the quantities and regularity of action over the whole mass submitted to salting and smoking. This is the course of operation. As soon as the pieces of pork come to the kitchen, the weight of each is written down in chalk on a black board. The salt is employed in a liquid state, the dissolution being proportioned in the same quantities for all meat; so that, by a calculation made beforehand, it is known how much saline mixture must be given to the weight of each piece. The reservoir containing this is placed on a higher stage, and communicates with the operator by a flexible india-rubber pipe, terminating in a slender metallic tube with a tap. Each ham is laid on the scale; whilst in the other is the weight, not only of the ham, but of the salt which must be added to it. The workman introduces the tube into the ham at the thin end, and then turns the tap; the saline liquid forced into the cellular tissues by the pressure from the reservoir, equal to a column of water of about sixteen feet high, insinuates itself between the muscles, and swells the mass in a very apparent manner, at the same time the weight increases. At the precise moment when the ham has received the proper amount of salt, the weight in the other scale falls, and the workman closes the tap. Thus the salting has penetrated to the interior; and to insure the preparation of all the exterior, the hams are steeped for a few days in a tub filled with the same liquid. From this they are carried to the smoking-chamber, a large room, into which open two chimneys communicating with fires in a lower story. The smoke arising from the combustion of wood spreads through the space at the same time as it warms the air; thus the hams are partially dried as well as smoked. Thermometers are hung in different places, and are visible from the outside, so that the temperature is carefully regulated. The only wood used is very dry oak; thus the pyroligneous properties are always identical. The weight of wood to be burned has been made with equal precision, according to the amount of smoke it gives out; for the quantity of air introduced into the stoves is always proportioned to the weight of wood, and consequently the combustion goes on invariably under the same conditions. Thus constant results are obtained, and nothing is left to chance: the success has justified the hopes of the inventor, M. Martin de Lignac. The meat prepared in his manufactory has been highly appreciated by consumers. Many agriculturists, who formerly used a more or less imperfect mode of salting their pigs, have adopted his method. If there is additional expense, they are sure, on the other hand, of having hams which never fail to be well preserved, and about which they feel no anxiety; and in addition to these proofs of popular favour, the gold medal of the last International Exhibition in Paris was awarded to him. In Let us turn to another very important trade which has arisen within the last few years-that of German yeast. Taking up the idea that chemists had formed, that yeast was a vegetation which grew in the vats of breweries, some persons in Austria and Moravia began to cultivate this particular kind of leaven, which should be free from the strong odour and bitterness of malt. this way they have succeeded in developing the qualities, and producing a fermenting substance endowed with remarkable power, which, in a very small compass, gives better results than any other kind that housekeepers have adopted. It is a gray, firm paste, crumbling at the touch, and exhaling a slightly sour odour. As heat changes it quickly, it could not have been available in other countries before the establishment of railways; it spoils much in the same way as animal matters in a state of putrefaction. This is how it is manufactured; and besides the yeast, some accessory productions are obtained as alcohol, and a residuum of a kind of malt which is used for the fattening of cows and sheep. Three kinds of grain, maize, rye, and malted barley, after having been reduced to powder and mixed together, are macerated in water at a temperature of sixty-five or seventy degrees. Under these conditions, the active principle previously developed in the barley reacts on the starch, and transforms it into two other products immediately soluble, called dextrine and glucose, which are analogous to grape-sugar. At the end of a few hours, this sacchariferous process is complete; the liquid is racked off and refined, whilst alcoholic fermentation is produced by introducing a small quantity of leaven, reserved from a previous operation. Under the action of the leaven, the glucose is divided into carbonic acid, alcohol, and other accessories. At the same time, the dextrine, in which the sugary process is no longer retarded by an excess of glucose, gradually transforms itself into glucose; under this new form, it submits to the mysterious action of the leaven, and contributes towards enriching the liquor with an additional quantity of alcohol; whilst the carbonic acid, rendered free, disengages itself in the form of gas. A question naturally presents itself to the mind: How does the leaven act? and why does it decompose the glucose? Unfortunately, among the many different replies which have been made to this question, there is none which is completely satisfactory. The only certain thing is, that the globules of leaven are reproduced by a sort of budding process, giving birth at first to the most minute particles, which grow rapidly, reaching the largest dimensions that these corpuscles ever present; that is to say, about the three-thousandth part of a foot. In this mode of manufacturing yeast, care is taken to furnish these vegetables, by the composition of the malt in which they are developed, with a much richer nourishment than the malt of ordinary breweries. This is the essential principle of this new preparation. On this account, the vital activity of the fermentation is much greater. The carbonic acid disengages itself in such abundance, that the leaven drawn up with it floats on the liquid, forming a thick foam. It is clear that these are the most powerful globules which are thus raised and sustained on the surface by the bubbles of gas. They are skimmed off as they appear, leaving the less active leaven at the bottom of the vat. Before despatching it to every country, there is nothing to be done but to drain it, wash it slightly on a sheet, and, in order to render it less impervious to the action of the air and heat, to submit it to the hydraulic press, which eliminates the greater part of the liquid. In this state it may be preserved for eight or fifteen days, according to the season. When examined by the help of a microscope, this leaven is composed of ovate granules, transparent, and of regular size; the greater part are of the size mentioned above; whilst a few, which may be called the young ones, do not reach a quarter of that diameter. It is evidently owing to the abundance of nutritive principles which are furnished at the moment when it is formed, and to other favourable arrangements, that the German yeast owes the very rich composition and vigorous vitality with which it is endowed. For example, maize-flour possesses three times as much of fatty substances as barley or wheat flour; and this is one of the causes of the large proportion which is found in the pressed yeast, as it is sometimes called, the glucose also assisting in this respect. It is the same with the azotic or mineral compositions, which make the German yeast so much more valuable than the brewer's yeast; endowed as it is with greater energy, half the quantity produces a more regular and active fermentation. Every housekeeper will allow that bread made with it is lighter than the other; this is owing to the disengagement of the gas being more uniform, the dough is more homogeneous, and, consequently, better raised. Owing to the mode of preparation, it contains neither the bitter flavour nor the strongly scented essential oil of the hop. Leaving these home manufactures, the last example of the power of chemistry will be found in the immense prairies of La Plata and Australia. Here wander innumerable flocks of sheep and cattle; a vigorous vegetation, favoured by a warm climate and the humid salt emanations from the sea, provides abundance of nourishment; animals prosper and multiply amazingly. The South American hunters are numerous also; and the number of cattle killed every month may be counted by hundreds of thousands, so that the wonder is that they do not wholly disappear. In former days, this rough sport was carried on for the sake of the hides and wool only; the flesh, bones, and sinews were too difficult of transport and preservation for this rudimentary trade, and lay abandoned on the spot. Some persons interested themselves to utilise more fully these waifs and strays of the chase. At first, it was proposed to export the bones to England and France. In civilised countries they have acquired a commercial value which covers the price of the freight; they are largely used by the cutlers; gelatine is extracted from them; by burning them, the substance is obtained which clarifies sugar; phosphorus is made from them, and lastly, they furnish the most valuable manure for the agriculturist. As for the skins, the country not offering the necessary resources for the establishment of tanyards, they were exported in a fresh state. A new agent, phenic acid, preserved them from any alteration during the voyage. It is the best antiseptic known; there is no animal fermentation which can. resist it, no putrefaction that it does not arrest. After this, there only remained the flesh to perish. for want of suitable means of preservation. The employment of phenic acid could not be thought of; excellent as it is for the purification of stables, houses, and hospitals, it does not answer for articles of food. Though it has been purified so as to obtain colourless crystals, it always has an odour of the coal-tar from which it is extracted, which gives a flavour to the meat. In default of a modern antiseptic, another was tried, less efficacious, and as old as civilisation-common salt; but no decisive result was obtained: it did not give complete security, and it did not yet appear possible economically to preserve the meat which was left to perish. The well-known chemist, Dr Liebig, directed his researches in another way; instead of exporting the flesh, he wished to concentrate on the spot, and in a small compass, the principal nutritive elements; to obtain an extract of meat, which, when it reached England, might be weakened by thirty times its weight of water, and give a liquid having all the essential qualities of ordinary beeftea. This new commercial production has been largely consumed in England and Germany; it is used in the navy, and in distant colonies where food is difficult to obtain; but in France, where refinement of taste is greater, the success has not been so general. This is the manner in which it is prepared; the process is very simple, and suited to the primitive state of the country: After the animal is killed, the meat is cut very small, and steeped in an equal quantity of water; this is boiled for a quarter of an hour, when the whole is thrown into a linen cloth, and the liquid which passes through is the beef-tea in its normal state. There is, however, too large a proportion of water, and some fat, which would interfere with its keeping. The hydraulic press is applied to the mass of meat which is left after straining; and thus pressed it forms a sort of cake, which is considered to be exhausted of all eatable particles; a residue which at some future time will probably be turned to a useful purpose. The liquid is again heated, and the fat being carefully skimmed off the top, it is boiled down to one-sixth of its original volume, and brought to the consistency of extract, keeping it from all contact with the air in a vessel where a vacuum has been made by means of a pneumatic pump. Nothing more is wanting but to pour it into jars hermetically closed, and sealed with a leaden seal, to preserve them from adulteration. The first commercial inferiority of the extract of meat arises from the fact, that for the same quantity of nutritive elements, it costs more than ordinary broth; so that it need never be supposed that the flocks of South America and Australia will reduce in any manner the price of butcher-meat here. Besides this objection, the extract during its preparation loses a part of its aroma, and contracts a slightly acid flavour, which becomes more apparent the stronger the infusion is made; and finally, there is a deep colour, which is always avoided in the domestic preparation. The greater part of these disadvantages will probably disappear when the company has perfected its apparatus. Instead of the flesh being chopped by men, the machines used here for that purpose would do it much more quickly, and with less waste. The alteration of the liquid during concentration, both in colour and flavour, might be prevented by the use of the system employed by the sugar-refiners-vessels heated by steam. The cakes of pressed meat too, containing, as they do, fibrine, albumen, phosphate of magnesia, and chalk, ought to be put to some use; if nothing better can be found, at least it would not be difficult to make them into a manure of unexceptionable richness. The bones also, which are now used to heat the caldrons, might find a more remunerative destination. It ought to be possible to lower the price to a quarter of its present value; and we need not doubt that the chemists who have already done so much for us, will make every effort to improve and cheapen such a valuable addition to our diet. BIM. AMONG THE BEAST S. CHAPTER I.-THE SPECULATING BEAVER. but 'To see Skiddaw's Peak is a wonderful sight,' says the old proverb, 'but to hear Skiddaw speak is much more surprising;' similarly, to see the Beaver had been an agreeable surprise to Bim., to hear him was a still more unexpected pleasure. The animal was a very common specimen of his genus, too-with long chestnut hair, such as his enemies would have called 'red,' much soiled with mud; and claws that looked as if he were a pastrycook in the dirt-pie line. He stood on his hind legs, leaning his fore-paws against the wire of the enclosure, and looked up at our young friend as inquisitively as he looked at him. but that was by very ill-behaved boys, and it was thought to be very rude.' 'Was it? Well, that's a matter of opinion. If they had called him a beaver, it would have been a compliment. What you must all come to, however, is not dust, as you think, but fur and feathers. All men sooner or later become animals. If they have been bad men, they transmigrate into the bodies of bad beasts, of which there is here a large assortment; while the good men become beavers." 'I see,' said Abimelech ; but I am almost afraid he didn't. 'There are some wise races,' continued Castor Fiber, 'who, even as men, are almost equal to Rodents.' 'I know,' cried Bim. with the vivacity of a sharp little boy in class who is afraid that the one question he can answer will not come down to him. 'You're a Rodent: I've read that in Wood.' 'The Siamese, for instance,' pursued the beaver, without regarding this egotistic interruption, never destroy animals, for fear they should thereby kill their relatives, with the exception of the white elephant, whom they believe to have been their mother-in-law. Similarly, the Banians of Indiasometimes, from this conscientious abstemiousness, termed Banyans-are not only vegetarians, but will redeem any animal who is about to be killed, and suffer it to go at large. These nations, however, are honourable exceptions. I daresay you have eaten innocent sucking-pig without a twinge.' 'I ate it once,' reflected Abimelech, though not without several twinges; the doctor said they were caused by the rich crackling and the currant sauce. It was the first day we came to Bantling but I shall never forget it.' Terrace ; You live in Bantling Terrace, do you?" teeth! Well, that is a good one. Why, I ran up squeaked the beaver merrily. 'O my tail and those houses myself.' 'Not lately, did you?' said Bim. simply. 'I should very much like to have seen you at it.' 'I mean, I built 'em, you silly boy. I built 'em with this very trowel, and that is why I am here in the mud and muck, instead of holding my head up with the giraffe and the best of them. The I had no idea that beavers could talk,' ex-fact is, I scamped the work. You find the drains claimed Abimelech, though I knew they could make dams and lodges. What very intelligent animals you must be !" Ah! you may say that; but I was not always a beaver. I was once a speculative builder. Observe my flat paddle-shaped tail; that used to be my trowel. I work in mud now, but there was a time when I dabbled in bricks and mortar. you never read of Pythagoras?' Abimelech scratched his little head; but that only affected the surface. If there was anything inside it about Pythagoras (which I doubt), it did not appear. Have I see you have not,' said the beaver, with a look of rather low cunning. 'Don't distress yourself on that account; no more have I. But I have heard about him from the Secretary Bird, who knows everything. He was the first man who found out that beasts had once been men: that men are often beasts, you have probably discovered for yourself.' 'Well, I have heard it said,' replied Abimelech hesitatingly, that our schoolmaster is a beast; are a little odoriferous, don't you? And you can hear all that's going on in the next house? Well, you are indebted for those advantages to me.' Here his light tone altered to one of deep contrition. But to jest at such conduct only befits the laughing jackass. My object (alas!) was to sell 'em, not to do my duty by 'em; and that's why I'm a beaver.' The poor animal flapped its paws, and beat its tail about in a manner quite deplorable to witness. I thought you said that all beavers had been good men?' said Abimelech, whose own name (as you remember) means (in the original) the Soul of Truth. 'I daresay I did. I am as great a liar now as I always was. You can't get on as a speculating builder without it; I defy you to do it. Look at the mortgagees.' Bim. looked about him, but saw nothing, except the beaver in tears. Yes, young gentleman, I was too clever by half. "It is much better to be good than to be clever," as the lord-mayor told the excellent Francis Good |