They are washed with hot water and cleansing
materials in iron pans, by boys, who seem to
enjoy the shaking and boulting of the needles
with real zest. When clean, the needles are
tossed into sawdust, and tossed about in it,
until they are dry, and then the sawdust is
tossed out from them; they are tossed into
bundles, and sent to the manufactory, to be
sorted and put up for sale.

We shall not come back to the unsavoury
mill any more; so we will ask what that boy
is doing; and how any stone-breaking can
be necessary to the making of needles? He
is breaking into smaller pieces those not large
white stones, from which emery powder comes.
We follow his barrowful of pieces into a little
shed, and find that the water power is working.
up and down, the pestle of a great mortar,
where the boy's fragments are broken into
dust. A man is sifting what comes out of the
mortar, and returning whatever will not go
through his sieve.

Once more in the manufactory, we find the
faulty needles separated from the perfect.
Among so many, some must be broken, some
bent, some with bad eyes or dull points.
We inquire what becomes of the refuse,
which is called " scrap; " and the answer
appears to us so curious that we are glad we
did not miss the information. The bright
needles, which happen only to have lost their
heads, are eagerly bought by picture-frame
makers and cabinet-makers. They are
invaluable for delicate fastenings, for veneering,
and where a nail is wanted of extreme
fineness and without a head. The rest of the
"scrap " is equally prized for another object,
—for making gun-barrels. It is sold by
cartloads, as the finest-tempered steel that gun-
barrels can be made of. What an idea this
gives,—or would give, if we could receive it
—of the extent of the manufacture!

The manufacture is now complete; but the
making ready for sale exhibits a miracle of
dexterity; at least, to unpractised eyes.

A handful of needles, lying all manner of
ways, is put into a tray, which is shaken
backwards and forwards, until the needles
lie all one way. Those whose points lie
left, from those whose points lie right, are
separated. A little girl spreads a heap on
her counter into a rough row, wraps a bit
of cloth round the forefinger of her right
hand, shakes the needles a little, and brings
out a batch, with their points sticking lightly
in the cloth, and their heads supported by
her other forefinger. These she lays aside,
and does the same thing again, until all are
separated. A heap is thus separated more
quickly than we can tell how it is done. But
these needles are of different lengths. How
should we set about sorting them ? Certainly
not in the actual way. The operation just
described is called " heading." This is called
"handling."  A narrow piece of wood, like a
thick flat ruler, is heaped with as many
needles as will lie upon it, almost from end to
end. A woman feels along both sides with
the lower edge of her hands, and lifts from
the rest, with her little fingers and the palms
of her hands, the longest needles, which she
places on one side. Then follow the next
longest, which she places on the other side.
It is altogether an affair of tact; and fine
must be the touch, and long the experience,
required to do such sorting with accuracy.

Then, we arrive at the seat of another
wonderful woman, who is pronounced by her
employer the most rapid worker he has ever
seen. Her business is to count the needles
into quarter hundreds, and paper them up.
The squares of paper lie ready; the needles
are before her. She separates twenty-five of
them, whips them into a paper, and counts
again with incredible rapidity; folding the
filled papers when about half-a-dozen are
ready. We are so persuaded that our readers
could never believe how many packets this
woman folds in a day, that we will not say
how many thousands they number. That so
many should go forth into the world from one
house, is wonderful enough; that one woman
should put them up for their journey, is more
than any readers, not needle-makers, could be
expected to believe on the declaration of an
anonymous writer.

Next, we come among boys and girls. One
little boy is cutting out the printed labels,
which have had their figures neatly filled
in by an older lad. A third is spreading
the cut labels on a board smeared with paste.
A girl is putting them on the packets of
needles. Another is putting on the warranty
ticket, in like manner. Another is " tucking;"
slipping one end of the needle paper into the
other. A lad is looking to the drying of the
papers in the warm drying-closet, in the same
room, where they remain about two hours;
and he and another are tying up the papers
into packets. Finally, we return into the
warehouse, and see the piles of gay boxes,
which are to be filled with an assortment of
needles for presents, or for foreign sale.
These boxes are a branch of industry in
themselves; with their portraits of the Queen
and Prince, and their copies from popular
pictures, such as Raffaelle's Madonna in the
Chair. As a further temptation, these
pictures in the lids are so fitted as to be
disengaged and hung up. They are probably to be
seen on the walls of many a log cabin in
America, and chalet in Switzerland, and
bungalow in India, and home of exiles in Siberia.
It seems as if all the world of needlewomen,
of every clime, were supplied by England. One
man has gone from among us to set up the
business in the United States; but the
Americans are not known yet to be making for
themselves. In all directions, our hundredweights
and tons of this delicate article are
going forth.

We should have liked to know what the
consumption of sail-makers' needles is at
home: but this we could not learn. These