Soap-Bubbles and the Forces Which Mould Them

by C. V. Boys

I shall now cause a small fountain to play, and shall allow the water as it falls to patter upon a sheet of paper. You can see both the fountain itself and its shadow upon the screen. You will notice that the water comes out of the nozzle as a smooth cylinder, that it presently begins to glitter, and that the separate drops scatter over a great space (Fig. 41). Now why should the drops scatter? All the water comes out of the jet at the same rate and starts in the same direction, and yet after a short way the separate drops by no means follow the same paths. Now instead of explaining this, and then showing experiments to test the truth of the explanation, I shall reverse the usual order, and show one or two experiments first, which I think you will all agree are so like magic, so wonderful are they and yet so simple, that if they had been performed a few hundred years ago, the rash person who showed them might have run a serious risk of being burnt alive.

Fig. 41.

Fig. 42.

You now see the water of the jet scattering in all directions, and you hear it making a pattering sound on the paper on which it falls. I take out of my pocket a stick of sealing-wax and instantly all is changed, even though I am some way off and can touch nothing. The water ceases to scatter; it travels in one continuous line (Fig. 42), and falls upon the paper making a loud rattling noise which must remind you of the rain of a thunder-storm. I come a little nearer to the fountain and the water scatters again, but this time in quite a different way. The falling drops are much larger than they were before. Directly I hide the sealing-wax the jet of water recovers its old appearance, and as soon as the sealing-wax is taken out it travels in a single line again.

Now instead of the sealing-wax I shall take a smoky flame easily made by dipping some cotton-wool on the end of a stick into benzine, and lighting it. As long as the flame is held away from the fountain it produces no effect, but the instant that I bring it near so that the water passes through the flame, the fountain ceases to scatter; it all runs in one line and falls in a dirty black stream upon the paper. Ever so little oil fed into the jet from a tube as fine as a hair does exactly the same thing.

Fig. 43.

I shall now set a tuning-fork sounding at the other side of the table. The fountain has not altered in appearance. I now touch the stand of the tuning-fork with a long stick which rests against the nozzle. Again the water gathers itself together even more perfectly than before, and the paper upon which it falls is humming out a note which is the same as that produced by the tuning-fork. If I alter the rate at which the water flows you will see that the appearance is changed again, but it is never like a jet which is not acted upon by a musical sound. Sometimes the fountain breaks up into two or three and sometimes many more distinct lines, as though it came out of as many tubes of different sizes and pointing in slightly different directions (Fig. 43). The effect of different notes could be very easily shown if any one were to sing to the piece of wood by which the jet is held. I can make noises of different pitches, which for this purpose are perhaps better than musical notes, and you can see that with every new noise the fountain puts on a different appearance. You may well wonder how these trifling influences—sealing-wax, the smoky flame, or the more or less musical noise—should produce this mysterious result, but the explanation is not so difficult as you might expect.