and granulates at the bottom of the pan: you
see men lade up this granulated salt with
flattish shovels, and transfer it to draining
vessels: and you see it finally put into oblong
boxes, whence it is carried to the stove-room
to be dried. Observing a little more closely,
you see that a nicety of manipulation leads
to a nice classification of salt. If the brine
be rapidly and violently boiled, one kind of
salt is produced,—the finest and best; of
slower boiling, a moderately good kind of salt
comes; of still slower, a strong but coarse
kind, used in salting herrings and other fish.
The coarsest salt is often the strongest; and
thus all demands for quality are easily met.
The blocks of salt we see in the London
shops, are taken from wooden moulds,
containing about thirty pounds each. It is in
these moulds that the salt consolidates; and
then the white oblong quadrangular masses
are removed from the moulds, and taken into
the stove-house to dry.

A Battle of the Brine was fought at Droitwich
about four years ago, and a very singular
battle it was, in respect both to its cause and
its tactics. One of the salt-works had been
carried on by a company, which company
fell into difficulties, and the operations were
suspended for a considerable time. During
this period, other persons sank new pits
and established new works. On the renewal
of the company's operations, there were, of
course, more salt-makers than before. They
competed with one another, and prices fell
below the remunerating point. The makers
met, and talked, and wrangled; but effected
nothing in a peace-making direction. Then
the company declared war. The company
had their brine-pits at their works; but all,
or nearly all, the other manufacturers derived
their brine from pits at a greater or lesser
distance from their works; and it seems to
have been a custom in the district to assume,
that the salt-makers might carry their brine-pipes
through any estate, provided they did
not interfere with the surface. Now, it
happened that the company possessed the ground
through which some of these brine-pipes ran;
and hence the plan of campaign. On a
selected occasion—perhaps on a dark night,
for this reads better—a body of men belonging
to the company cut off the pipes of one
unfortunate salt-maker, stopped his brine,
and thereby stopped his trade. After a time,
he plucked up spirit and showed fight. He
procured men from the little salt-works to
come and help him re-lay his pipes in the
night; while other men from the big
salt-works came to prevent them. Constables
caino and looked on, ready to interfere if
matturs became serious. After a struggle,
the little party drove off the big party, and
succeeded in re-laying the pipes. A few days
afterwards, at midnight, the company's men
again went and cut off the pipes. In another
direction, by an extraordinary stroke of
genius, the company managed to cut off a
brine-pipe by running a kind of tunnel or
gallery from a cellar belonging to a tenant
of theirs, and so intersecting the pipe
underneath the turnpike-road—for this particular
brine-pipe did not run through any ground
belonging to the company. At it they went,
Russians and Turks, big salters and little
salters, until matters began to look serious.
It was fancied that each party would injure
the other, and that the trade of the town
would suffer. At length peace was proclaimed,
on what terms we do not exactly know; but
peace was proclaimed, —and may it flourish!
For it is a very peculiar and critical system
this, the obtaiument of brine in such a way;
it requires that all should work in harmony.

There is a knotty problem in the Post-office
Directory of Worcestershire. A certain
inhabitant of Droitwich, whom we may perhaps
designate John Salt, is set down as " salt-pan
maker and New Rising Sun."  It might at
first be supposed that John Salt is the Coming
Man who is so much talked of, about to rise
and bless the world; but a humbler theory
is, that he keeps the New Rising Sun hostelry.
or perhaps that his better-half keeps it, while
he busies himself iu making salt-pans. The
neighbouring county of Stafford is abundantly
rich in similar examples, principally among
the lock-makers of Wolverhainpton and
Willenhall.

At Droitwich alone, as many as sixty
thousand tons of salt are made annually; but
this is a trifle compared to the Cheshire
make. Taking the two counties, with a
sprinkling in a few other counties, it is
supposed that there are about a hundred
salt-works in England,—producing aoout eight
hundred thousand tons of salt per annum,
—giving an average produce of about eight
thousand tons from each work. The price
varies from about five shillings per ton, for
the commonest kind in times of competition,
to; about twenty shillings per ton for the
finest kind in times of mutually-arranged
tariffs. Twelve to fifteen shillings per ton is
about a medium price for fair average table-
salt, sold at the works. It is a great blessing
to the country that good salt can thus be
obtained at twelve to sixteen pounds for a
penny. Merchants' profits, shopkeepers' protits,
and the charges for ship and canal and
railway conveyance, raise the price to the
level with which we are familiar. After
supplying all our home wants, we have something
like half a million of tons to spare annually
for other countries.

The Royal Hotel at Droitwich has a series
of baths connected with it. The cisterns of
these baths are connected by pipes with the
brine-pits of a neighbouring salt-work; and
pumps are set to work to supply the baths.
As the brine would very nearly excoriate an
unlucky bather if used in its first rude
strength, it is mollified and rendered gentle.
Hot clear water is mingled with cold clear
brine. The specific gravity is great, and the