left untouched for a long time, refuses to yield milk.

The manner of procuring it is as follows: -Taking a quantity of soft clay with them, and each man being provided with a sword not very unlike a ship's cutlas, a party of Indians proceed to the woods. They make cuts in several places on each seranga or India-rubber tree they come to, and form the clay they have with them into little cups round each wound in the tree, the milk of which immediately begins to appear, oozing out faster or slower according to its worth. The party go on in this way searching for trees, leaving some of their number occasionally behind, who collect the milk from the small ones into larger clay bowls. In general, the moulds to which the caoutchou is to be applied, are carried out with them; at all events, it must be used within twenty-four hours after it has been procured, otherwise it becomes dry and hard. The process of modelling is performed by dipping; when the substance is dry, the models, which are of clay like the cups, are broken and shaken away from the inside. Thus, do we want a pair of shoes to fit feet for which nature has not done much? We repair to the Hoby of Para, who models a lump, or two lumps of clay, to represent our unfortunate bumps or instep; he sends these unsightly structures by his trusty servants, to the forest; they are dipped some three or four times, at intervals of about five minutes, and brought home again, where they hang up at the shop-door from twenty-four to forty-eight hours, until in short, they acquire a sufficient hardness, when they are handed over to their happy purchaser, at the rate of from eighteen pence to half-a-crown the pair; an illustration of how art may overcome nature.

The common use for which the caoutchou is applied, is for shoes, great quantities of which are taken to the American market, the inhabitants of some provinces of the Union being very partial to them. They are always worn over leathern ones in this country, but I believe not in America. The town of Para, which contains a population of about 30,000 souls, is only curious from the appearance which the India-rubber shops make in it. The shoes may be seen strung together by thousands, and of hues varying from the dingy yellow to the jet black, according to the goodness of the material or the length of time they have been hanging up. Here and there also may be seen droll figures of monkeys, or other animals, formed in the same manner, and made as playthings for children. The caoutchou is also used to render cotton garments impervious to wet, and as such finds a great demand in England. Rope is also manufactured with it, instead of tar, the flax being the tender leaf of the plantain

tree.

In all its different shapes, Para perhaps exports nearly 1,500 tons of Indian-rubber annually.

There is no doubt that much more advantage might be derived from it than is at present, if an easy and cheap way of keeping it in a liquid state could be discovered. The expense of using it in England arises solely from this cause. The largest manufactory in this country, where it is used in making rope, and for other manufacturing purposes, is said to be at Grimsby, under the superintendence of Captain Harris, of the Navy.

It may be not irrelevant to observe, so great is the present consumption of caoutchou, that several thousand tons of it have been imported during the few early months of the current year, while, five or six years ago, it scarcely formed a noticeable entry in our books of customs; and, half a century back, its existence was scarcely known. The first public mention of caoutchou, or as it was then called, India-rubber, which name it still retains, although it is now but seldom used by artists, is in a note, added by Dr. Priestley to the Preface of his "Treatise on the Theory and Practice of Perspective," dedicated to Sir Joshua Reynolds, and published in 1770. He says, "Since this work was printed off, I have seen a substance excellently adapted to the purpose of wiping from paper the marks of a black-lead pencil. It must, therefore, be of singular use to those who practise drawing. It is sold by Mr. Nairne, mathematical instrument maker, opposite the Royal Exchange. He sells a cubical piece of half an inch for three shillings, and he says it will last for several years."-Now it is imported by tons, and sells at from 2d. to 6d. per lb.

LARGE TREES.

PROFESSOR BURNETT observes in his Out lines of Botany :-"Few persons, indeed, save those to whom habit has rendered it familiar, form any thing like just estimates of the actual size of trees. The situations in which they commonly are seen, harmonizing with the illimitable expanse of heaven, and the wide extent of forest scenery or of moun tain heights, lessen ideally their apparent bulk; nor is it till singled from the surrounding landscape, nor even then, until the theodolite and rule proclaim their sums, that we become persuaded of their vast extent. Nay, figures themselves, to the generality of the world, convey but very imperfect conceptions of length, and breadth, and height, and girth: some more familiar representations are wanted to prove that a majestic tree, which is only in moderate proportion as an ornament to nature in the country, is really an enormous mass, and would be esteemed a large and glorious structure amongst the dwellings and

palaces of men, in town. It is by comparing these forest-kings with more homely objects, that we alone become acquainted with their correct capacity. When seeing an oak seven feet in diameter, its size arrests not our attention; we even pass with little thought such as hold ten or twelve feet across, or more, although the smallest of these has a width as great as the carriage-way of Fetter-lane, near Temple-bar, or of Bedford-street, in the Strand. Oaks could be named which would suffer two broad-wheeled wagons to pass each other on the kerf; the stub of one has been described on which two men could thresh, without incommoding each other; and this was not one of the largest size. The chapel-oak of Allouville, not half so large as our Cowthorpe tree, is of equal size with the famous Greendale oak, the trunk of which is pierced by a road, over which it forms a triumphal arch, higher by several inches than the entrance to Westminster Abbey, (the Poets' Postern,) and under which men on horseback pass, and through which carriages have been driven

"The area occupied by the Cowthorpe oak,* where the trunk enters the soil, exceeds the ground plot of that majesic column, of which an oak is confessed to have been the prototype, viz., Smeaton's Eddystone lighthouse. Sections of the stem of the one would, at several heights, nearly correspond with sections of the curved and cylindrical portions of the other. A chamber of equal extent, or larger than either of those in the lighthouse, might be hollowed out of its trunk; the natural caverns in Damery's and other oaks, were larger than the chambers alluded to; and tranverse slices of the stem would be considerably too large to floor any of them. Arthur's round table, which is a plank from such an oak, would form for it an entire roof, or projecting capital: indeed, upon this table there might be built a round church, as large as that of St. Lawrence before referred to, and space to spare; so that, if the extent of the sapwood were added, or the groundplot of the Cowthorpe oak were substituted for the table, there would be plenty of room, not only to build the parishchurch, but also to allow enough for a small cemetery beside. Indeed, with reference to this last-named oak, and also the tree-castles and tree-chapel, it may be observed, that St. Bartholomew's, in the hamlet of Kingsland, between London and Hackney, which, besides the ordinary furniture of a place of religious worship, viz. desks for the minister and clerk, altar, staircase, stove, &c., has pews and seats for one hundred and twenty persons; upwards of one hundred have been in it at the same time; and some months since, myself made one of a congregation there assembled of nearly eighty persons, • Engraved in the Mirror, vol. xxv., p. 24.

Still this

(seventy-six or seventy-seven were counted,) when the pews were by no means crowded, and plenty of room left vacant. chapel is nearly nine feet less in width, and only seventeen inches more in length, than the groundplot of the Cowthorpe oak: in fact, the tree occupies upwards of thirty square feet surface more than does the chapel. Or, to take another illustration, in Little White Lion-street, Long-acre, the inspectors of a district visiting society found, some months ago, a house, the internal area of which is only twelve feet by twenty-four, (not half that of the Cowthorpe oak, which is twenty-six feet in diameter,) containing nine small rooms, in which there dwelt-i. e. eat, drank, and slept, and did all that poor mortality requires,-no less than eleven men, thirteen women, and sixty-nine children, making a total of ninety-three human beings, who have been crowded into less space than is enjoyed by a single tree, (Amænitates Querneæ.)"

Spirit of Discovery.

SPINNING YARN.

THE following are the processes of spinning worsted and lambs' wool-worsted yarn being spun from what is called long wool, which is produced exclusively in England: lambs' wool yarn is spun from short wool, and also from the refuse of the long wool after it has passed through the hands of the combers. Long wool is first washed and dried; the washing is performed by men, boys attend them to convey the wool to the drying-room, where it is spread out upon the floor. This room is kept at a very high temperature, but the boys remain in it a very inconsiderable time. The wool is then removed to the plucker, an instrument by which its fibres are straightened to prepare it for the card. For some descriptions of work it is combed instead of carded; combing is performed by manual labour, in close, hot rooms, for stoves are necessary to keep the combs hot; it is a very laborious employment. Cards, however, are gaining ground upon the combs. The cards are worked by machinery; and are tended by children, who are either feeders, to supply the washed wool, or doffers, who receive the wool from the drawing head in the shape of a loose, untwisted rope or sliver This part of the work is that in which employment is generally found for the youngest children in the worsted factories. The wool is then removed to the bobbin-frame, where it receives its first twist; and, from this point, the principle of the machinery remains the same, to the finest thread that can be drawn. The untwisted rope of wool, technically called open drawing, is introduced by its end between two pairs of rollers, the second pair revolving faster than the first; the conse

quence of which is, that the thread is necessarily drawn out, and a greater or less degree of twist, according to the stage of the manufacture. The business of the attendant on the bobbin-frame, is to join the beginning of one open drawing to the end of the preceding, and to remove the spindles when full. After this process has been repeated four times, the drawings are called rovings, and from the roving frame, the thread is removed to the spinning frames, which, though distinguished by a separate name, do not differ essentially from the drawing and roving frames. The spinning frames, however, require more care; they are attended by girls of between sixteen and twenty, who earn, (in Leicester,) from nine to ten shillings per week. The others are paid from six to seven shillings per week, according to their proficiency.

The process we have described belongs to long wool, where it is of importance to straighten the fibres; in short wool, on the contrary, it is necessary to break the fibres, and, for this purpose, the wool is exposed to the action of spikes revolving in a box with great rapidity. This machine, called the Shakewilly, appears very formidable to a stranger, and the workmen vulgarly term it the Devil. Wool is introduced into the Shakewilly while the machine is in motion; and several serious accidents have occurred from want of caution.

The wool is then placed on the scribbler, a machine by which it is oiled and carded; thence it passes to the carding machine, which is so contrived that the wool is finally doffed in disconnected layers. These layers pass under a fluted roller, which rolls each up into a cylindrical form, in which state they are called cardings.

The cardings, as they fall from the machine, are collected by children called piece ners, whose business it is to piece or join the cardings together, for the purpose of being drawn into a continuous thread. The frame at which this is done is called a slubbering billy, and the man who performs it a slubber. There is nothing similar to the process of slubbing in the worsted and cotton manufactories, and it is necessary to bear this in mind, for it will presently appear that in this process, children are more liable to be overworked and cruelly treated than in any other species of factory employment.

The billy is not worked by machinery; the speed and continuance of its labour are entirely at the option of the slubber. There are generally sixty spindles, one slubber and four pieceners belonging to each billy. The little pieceners take the cardings, and place them on a low, sloping board, called the billy-board, joining the ends together by rolling them with the palms of their hands, Each child bringing fifteen cardings at a

time. The billy has an oscillating motion through a space called the billy-gate; it is set going by a fly-wheel, which the slubber turns with his right hand while he governs the frame with his left. If the work goes on regularly, the children have ample time to piece their fifteen ends; but if this be done incompletely, defects called flies are produced on the slubbing; and if any end be left unjoined, the ends are said to be let up, which, of course, causes delay. The slubber is provided with a strap to punish the pieceners in case of neglect, but he not unfrequently uses the billy-roller, which is easily detached, and inflicts a very severe blow. If the slubber be disposed to leave his work, as many do for an hour together, the cardings accumulate with great rapidity, and are piled by the children in stacks. When the slubber returns, he sets to work more violently than common, in order to overtake the card; the children have to continue piling the cardings, constantly thrown off by the machine, and, at the same time, to piecen their ends with double rapidity. On these occasions, the labour of the children becomes very severe, and their unavoidable faults incur cruel punishment.*

From the slubber, the yarn goes to the spinner, who works at a frame called a jenny, by which the yarn is spun finer. The spinners are usually men.

The dressing and finishing of cloth is a business totally distinct from the manufacture of woollen yarn: the power-loom is scarcely known in the cloth trade, and when used, it is for the coarse description of goods. There is no uniformity in the employment of hand-weavers: in some factories they weave, dress, and finish cloth from all the yarn they spin; others sell their yarn, or give it out to the weavers; others manufacture nothing themselves, but purchase the cloth ready woven to dress and finish.

No female children are employed in finishing cloth, and very few little boys. The boys are principally employed in carping, that is, preparing teazles for the work men, and pressing, that is, cleaning and drying the teazle rods and handles. The teazles are fixed to rods inserted in large cylinders, called gigs; these, as they revolve, raise a nap on the cloth, which is made to pass over them. A constant jet of water is kept on the cloth during this process, and the rooms in which it is carried on, are, consequently, wet and disagreeable. There is no need of describing processes so generally known as weaving, scouring, dyeing, and cutting.

The only branches of cloth-finishing in

been invented, by which the pieceners will be emancipated from the capricious tyranny of the slubbers.

Dr. Ure informs us that a slubbing machine has

We hope it will succeed.

The Lord of Misrule—Mumming. In the fifth year of Edward VI., at Christmas time, George Ferrars, who was a lawyer, a poet, and an historian, was appointed by

the council to the office of Lord of Misrule. This gentleman, (says Holinshed,) being of better calling than commonly his predecessors had been before, received all his commissions and warrants, by the name of Master of the King's Pastimes; and he so well supplied his office, both of show and sundry sights, and dances, and rare inventions, and in divers interludes and matters of pastime, played by persons, as not only to satisfy the common sort, but also very well liked and allowed by the council, and others of skill in like pas times, but best by the young king himself, as appeared by his princely liberality in rewarding that service.

This master of merry disports was not confined to the court, nor to the houses of the opulent; he was selected in various parishes, where his reign seems to have been of shorter date. A writer who lived in the sixteenth century, gives the following description of this whimsical person and his followers :"First of all the wild heads of the parish flocking together, choose them a grand Captain of Mischief, whom they innoble with the title of Lord of Misrule: and then they crown him with great solemnity, and adopt him for their king. This king annointed, chooseth forth twenty, forty, threescore, or an hundred lusty bellies like himself, to wait upon his lord's majesty, and to guard his noble person. Then every one of these men he investeth with his liveries of green, yellow, or some other light colour, and as though they were not gaudy enough, they then bedeck themselves with scarffs, ribbons, and laces, hung all over with gold rings, precious stones, and other jewels. This done, they tie about either leg twenty or forty bells, have rich handkerchiefs in their hands, and some laid across over their shoulders and necks. Thus all things set in order, then have they their hobby-horses, dragons, and other antiques, together with their pipers and drummers. Then march this company towards the church, their pipers and drummers playing, their feet dancing, their bells jingling, their handker

chiefs fluttering about their heads like madmen, their hobby-horses, and other monsters, skirmishing among the throng; and in this sort they go to church, though the minister be at prayer or preaching, dancing and singing, with such a confused noise, that no man can hear his own voice. Then the foolish people, they look, they stare, they laugh, they fleer, and mount upon the forms and pews to see the goodly pageants solemnized. Then, after this, about they go again and again, and so forth into the churchyard, where they have commonly their summer halls, their bowers, arbours, and banquetting houses set up, wherein they feast, banquet, and dance all that day, and, peradventure, all that night too. And for the further innobling of this honourable Lord of Misrule and his complices, some of the people give bread, some good ale, some new cheese, some old cheese, some custards, some cracknels, some cakes, some flauns, some tarts, some cream, some meat, some one thing, and some another."

The practice of mumming is still kept up on Christmas-eve in the counties of Wilts and Somerset, where the mummers go round to the houses of the neighbouring gentlemen. The characters of their drama are five, which are performed by four men and a boy. The former wear grotesque dresses, and sometimes masks; while the latter is stuffed so as to appear to be humpbacked, and probably was intended to represent a dwarf. All five carry wooden swords. The performance begins by the entry of old Father Christmas, who recites some appropriate verses as he keeps walking in a circle; after which the character of Mince-pie enters, saying how essential he is to the approaching festivity. Then a Soldier is introduced, who having recited some verses of not a very pacific kind, begins to fight with Mince-pie. They combat with their wooden swords with considerable spirit, until the soldier being killed, falls flat on his back, when the fourth character, the Doctor, enters and restores him to life: then the four march in a circle, and the Dwarf, with three dolls strapped at his back, introduces himself, and informs the company that he is Little Jack, with his wife and family at his back. The five performers then sing a hymn, and having received the accustomed largess, they depart.

The Society belonging to Lincoln's Inn, had anciently an officer chosen at this season, who was honoured with the title of King of Christmas-day, because he presided in the hall upon that day; and this temporary potentate had a marshal and a steward to attend upon him. The marshal, in the absence of the monarch, was permitted to assume his state; and upon New Year's Day he sat as king in the hall, when the master of the revels, during the time of dining, supplied the marshal's place,