Evening at Home 53

Evening at Home 53

Geo._ What—is not that real silvering?

 

_Tut._ No. The pins which are made of brass wire, after being pointed

and headed, are boiled in hot water, in which grain-tin is put along

with tartar, which is a crust that collects on the inside of wine casks.

The tartar dissolves some of the tin, and makes it adhere to the surface

of the pins, and thus thousands are covered in an instant.

 

_Har._ That is as clever as what you told us of the gilding of buttons!

 

_Tut._ It is. Another purpose for which great quantities of tin used to

be employed was the making of pewter. The best pewter consists chiefly

of tin, with a small mixture of other metals to harden it; and the

London pewter was brought to such perfection as to look almost as well

as silver.

 

_Geo._ I can just remember a long row of pewter plates at my

grandmother’s.

 

_Tut._ You may. In her time all the plates and dishes for the table were

made of pewter, and a handsome range of pewter shelves was thought a

capital ornament for a kitchen. At present, this trade is almost come to

nothing, through the use of earthenware and china; and pewter is

employed for little but the worms of stills, and barbers’ basins, and

porter-pots. But a good deal is still exported. Tin is likewise an

ingredient in other mixed metals for various purposes, but, on the

whole, less of it is used than of the other common metals.

 

_Geo._ Is not England more famous for tin than any other country? I have

read of the Phoenicians trading here for it in very early times.

 

_Tut._ They did; and tin is still a very valuable article of export from

England. Much of it is sent as far as China. The tin mines are chiefly

in Cornwall, England, and I believe they are the most productive of any

in Europe. Very fine tin is also got in the peninsula of Malacca in the

East Indies. Well—we have now gone through the metals.

 

_Geo._ But you said nothing about a kind of metal called zinc.

 

_Tut._ That is one of another class of mineral substances called

_semi-metals_. These resemble metals in every quality but ductility, of

which they are almost wholly destitute, and for want of it they can

seldom be used in the arts, except when joined with metals.

 

_Geo._ Are there many of them?

 

_Tut._ Yes, several; but we will not talk of them till I have taken some

opportunity of showing them to you, for probably you may never have seen

any of them. Now try to repeat the names of all the metals to me in the

order of their weight.

 

_Har._ There is first _gold_.

 

_Geo._ Then _quicksilver_, _lead_, _silver_.

 

_Har._ _Copper_, _iron_, _tin_.

 

_Tut._ Very right. Now I must tell you of an old fancy that chymists

have had of christening these metals by the names of the heavenly

bodies. They have called gold _Sol_, or the sun.

 

_Geo._ That is suitable enough to its colour and brightness.

 

_Har._ Then silver should be the moon, for I have heard moonlight called

of a silvery hue.

 

_Tut._ True; and they have named it so. It is _Luna_. Quicksilver is

_Mercury_, so named probably from its great propensity to dance and jump

about, for _Mercury_, you know, was very nimble.

 

_Geo._ Yes—he had wings to his heels.

 

_Tut._ Copper is _Venus_.

 

_Geo._ _Venus!_ surely it is scarcely beautiful enough for that.

 

_Tut._ But they had disposed of the most beautiful ones before. Iron is

Mars.

 

_Har._ That is right enough, because swords are made of iron.

 

_Tut._ True. Then tin is _Jupiter_, and lead _Saturn_. I suppose only to

make out the number. Yet the dulness of lead might be thought to agree

with that planet which is most remote from the sun. These names,

childish as they may seem, are worth remembering, since chymists and

physicians still apply them to many preparations of the various metals.

You will, probably, often hear of _martial_, _lunar_, _mercurial_, and

_saturnine_; and you may now know what they mean.

 

_Geo._ I think the knowledge of metals seems more useful than all you

have told us about plants.

 

_Tut._ I don’t know that. Many nations make no use at all of metals, but

there are none which do not owe a great part of their subsistence to

vegetables. However, without inquiring what parts of natural knowledge

are _most_ useful, you may be assured of this, that all are useful in

some degree or other; and there are few things that give one man greater

superiority over another, than the extent and accuracy of his knowledge

in these particulars. One person passes all his life upon the earth, a

stranger to it; while another finds himself at home everywhere.

 

 

 

 

EYES AND NO EYES; OR, THE ART OF SEEING.

 

 

“Well, Robert, where have you been walking this afternoon?” said Mr.

Andrews to one of his pupils, at the close of a holyday.

 

_Robert._ I have been, sir, to Broom-heath, and so round by the windmill

upon Camp-mount, and home through the meadows by the river-side.

 

_Mr. Andrews._ Well, that’s a pleasant round.

 

_Rob._ I thought it very dull, sir; I scarcely met with a single person.

I had rather by half have gone along the turnpike-road.

 

_Mr. An._ Why, if seeing men and horses is your object, you would,

indeed, be better entertained on the high-road. But did you see William?

 

_Rob._ We set out together, but he lagged behind in the lane, so I

walked on and left him.

 

_Mr. An._ That was a pity. He would have been company for you.

 

_Rob._ O, he is so tedious, always stopping to look at this thing and

that! I had rather walk alone. I dare say he is not got home yet.

 

_Mr. An._ Here he comes. Well, William, where have you been?

 

_William._ O, sir, the pleasantest walk! I went all over Broom-heath,

and so up to the mill at the top of the hill, and then down among the

green meadows by the side of the river.

 

_Mr. An._ Why, that is just the round Robert has been taking, and he

complains of its dulness, and prefers the high-road!

 

_Will._ I wonder at that. I am sure I hardly took a step that did not

delight me, and I have brought my handkerchief full of curiosities home.

 

_Mr. An._ Suppose, then, you give us some account of what amused you so

much. I fancy it will be as new to Robert as to me.

 

_Will._ I will, sir. The lane leading to the heath, you know, is close

and sandy, so I did not mind it much, but made the best of my way.

However, I spied a curious thing enough in the hedge. It was an old

crab-tree, out of which grew a great bunch of something green, quite

different from the tree itself. Here is a branch of it.

 

_Mr. An._ Ah! this is mistletoe, a plant of great fame for the use made

of it by the Druids of old, in their religious rites and incantations.

It bears a very slimy white berry, of which bird-lime may be made,

whence its Latin name of _Viscus_. It is one of those plants which do

not grow in the ground by a root of their own, but fix themselves upon

other plants; whence they have been humorously styled _parasitical_, as

being hangers-on, or dependants. It was the mistletoe of the oak that

the Druids particularly honoured.

 

_Will._ A little farther on I saw a green woodpecker fly to a tree, and

run up the trunk like a cat.

 

_Mr. An._ That was to seek for insects in the bark, on which they live.

They bore holes with their strong bills for that purpose, and do much

damage to the trees by it.

 

_Will._ What beautiful birds they are!

 

_Mr. An._ Yes; they have been called, from their colour and size, the

English parrot.

 

_Will._ When I got upon the open heath, how charming it was! The air

seemed so fresh, and the prospect on every side so free and unbounded!

Then it was all covered with gay flowers, many of which I had never

observed before. There were, at least, three kinds of heath, (I have got

them in my handkerchief here,) and gorse, and broom, and bellflower, and

many others of all colours, that I will beg you presently to tell me the

names of.

 

_Mr. An._ That I will readily.

 

_Will._ I saw, too, several birds that were new to me. There was a

pretty grayish one, of the size of a lark, that was hopping about some

great stones; and when he flew he showed a great deal of white above his

tail.

 

_Mr. An._ That was a wheat-ear. They are reckoned very delicious birds

to eat, and frequent the open downs in Sussex, and some other counties,

in great numbers.

 

_Will._ There was a flock of lapwings, upon a marshy part of the heath,

that amused me much. As I came near them, some of them kept flying round

and round just over my head, and crying _pewit_ so distinctly, one might

almost fancy they spoke. I thought I should have caught one of them, for

he flew as if one of his wings was broken, and often tumbled close to

the ground; but as I came near, he always made a shift to get away.

 

_Mr. An._ Ha, ha! you were finely taken in then! This was all an

artifice of the bird to entice you away from its nest; for they build

upon the bare ground, and their nests would easily be observed, did they