be thus gained in one way would be lost in
another. A too thoroughly exhausted residue
would be rejected by animals. The grains at
Barclay's brewery have been squeezed so dry,
that pigs would not eat them.

The juice which streams from the iron press
is caught in a reservoir, and is then forced
upstairs, to undergo the defecation, or
clarification, which, like everything else here, is
the better for being done in double-quick
time. We will follow it closely,—though not
through the pipes. We turn to the left
wing of the building, mount a ladder, and on
a first floor or stage find a row of boilers much
like over-sized kettle-drums. The man who
clarifies is at his post; his implements are
few and simple;—a burning lamp, though it
is daylight, a metal table-spoon, a sort of rake
to stir up his broth with, and two large buckets
or seaux full of lime and water, like thick
creamy white-wash. Look into the boiler, and
you will see nothing but a large copper worm
or serpentin, coiled at the bottom. You
observe, however, that two pipes, each provided
with a tap, or robinet, enter his kettle-drum,
one at the top and the other at the bottom.

Our clarifier turns the upper tap, and in
rushes a stream of beet-root juice in its natural
state, and at the ordinary temperature
of the atmosphere. The sole clarifying agents
which he employs are heat and lime. Alum
is sometimes used; others attain their end by
means of sulphuric acid, either alone, or
together with lime. When the cauldron is
really full, or before, the lower tap is turned;
and in comes the steam raging through the
worm. The time to add the lime is when the
liquor is so hot that you can hardly bear your
hand in it. But we have not to wait long;
the steam does its work; the scum is already
rising. When the soup is hot enough, the
clarifier pours into it a whole bucketful of
white-wash and half another, stirring them
well up with his rake. He is careful not to
put too much; because too much lime gives an
offensive taste to the crystallizable sugar. If
he does not put enough, the clarification will
be imperfect. How is he to know exactly?
He tests it thus. He takes a spoonful of the
boiling liquid, cools it with his breath, and
inspects its surface by the aid of his lamp.
He is searching for something which he
cannot find yet. The other half-bucket is
therefore added, and well rinsed out. After
another boil, the spoon is again filled, cooled,
and inspected; and on its surface is a network
of fine threads like a spider's web. You
can see it yourself: take another spoonful,
and verify the test. All the substances which
have been rendered insoluble by the heat and
the lime are thus woven together, and are
sent to the surface in the form of scum. It
is now at least five or six inches thick, and
the juice which boils up through it is clear
and amber-tinted. It will do; the steam is
turned off, the boiling ceases. The liquor
escapes through the bottom of the boiler;
and, to save waste, the very scum which
remains is pressed in woollen bags, exactly
in the same way as the raw pulp.

The three next steps which the syrup has
to take, although equally curious, are not
interesting to, and are almost unseen by, the
casual visitor. These are, the first filtering
through noir animal, or ivory black; the first
evaporation; and the second filtering through
ivory black. In the year 1811, M. Figuier,
of Montpellier, first made known the powerful
bleaching properties of charcoal prepared from
bones. At Coquille, the ivory black is
manufactured upon the spot. The bones are put
into round iron pots, placed one on the top of
the other to exclude the air, and so calcined
in a furnace. When burnt enough, they are
ground to the requisite size in a sort of coffee-
mill. Were they red instead of black, they
would be not unlike a heap of coarse gravel.
Besides this first furnace, there are two others
of different construction to re-calcine the
ground bones which have already served as
filters. They are then used again, a certain
portion of fresh ivory black being mixed
with them. Where all the bones come from,
deponent doth not say. It is said that fields
of battle in general, and that of Leipsic in
particular, have been ransacked for raw
material to make noir animal with. At
Coquille, they profess to reject any Christian
bones that fall into their baking pots. " But,
Monsieur," asked the superintendent, inno-
cently, " Do you think that makes much dif-
ference ? Bones are bones, as far as ivory
black is concerned." What a consolation to
think that the lump of sugar which sweetens
your coffee has been brightened by infiltration
through the remains of your enemies!

After filtering, evaporating, and filtering
again, the clarified and concentrated fluid
flows into the boiler, where it is to undergo
its last cooking, or cuite. The man entrusted
with this is a highly responsible person. On
his attention depends the success of the
crystallisation, and, in factf of the whole. Still it
looks a lazy kind of work, to have nothing to
do but watch a large boiler full of hot treacle,
giving it a stir now aud then. His only
implement is a long-handled fish-slice, that is a
circular thing made of iron and pierced with
small holes (like the machine with which
cooks take up fried eggs out of their pan), at
the end of a stick. He has two tests to decide
when his syrup is enough. The first is a
mere common-place judgment by the thread
of syrup, the form and length of which, as it
drops from his egg-slice, or is drawn out
between his finger and thumb, tells him
whether the lucky moment has arrived. The
second proof is very pretty. " Blow! " said the
superintendent; the boiling-man blew a strong
puff into the iron of his slice, and from the other
side of it started a throng of little bubbles,
which went off dancing in a cloud, till, one by
one they burst. They were his tiny pilot
balloons; the flight of these in air was to him