There is now little doubt as to the value of ensilage as a food for cattle, for there is abundant testimony from various parts of the country, where the experiment has been tried of building silos, that beasts thrive upon the compressed fodder that had been stored therein. For instance, its value as a fatting food for cattle has been demonstrated upon Mr Stobart’s estate at Northallerton, by a carefully conducted trial. Twelve beasts were divided into two lots of six each. All were alike given the same quantity of meal and cake. Besides this, one lot received daily, each beast, twenty-four and a half pounds of hay and ninety-five pounds of turnips; the other lot receiving in lieu of hay and turnips each seventy-five pounds of ensilage. At the beginning of the experiment, the animals were weighed separately. At the end of one month they were again weighed. All of course showed a great advance; but those fed on ensilage totalled up to a figure which was forty-nine pounds better than the total exhibited by those fed in the more orthodox style.
As we have on a previous occasion hinted, the principle of ensilage has, after a manner, been applied for some years to fruit by the jam-makers. In years of plenty, fruit is reduced to pulp, and can in this state, if the air is carefully excluded, be made to keep well until a time of scarcity occurs. Large quantities of apricot pulp finds its way to this country from France, and realises a good price. In America, a clever plan of rapid drying and evaporation of the watery parts of fruit has come into vogue, and this industry gives employment to many workers. A stove constructed for the purpose costs about fifteen pounds. It is portable, and is used in many districts far from towns where there is not a ready market for fresh fruit. As the water slowly evaporates, the acid and starch in the fruit undergo a chemical change, and grape-sugar is formed. When placed in water, these dried fruits once more swell up to their original volume, and are in every respect like fresh fruit, only that they require, when cooked, but half the usual quantity of added sugar. All kinds of vegetables can be preserved by this process.
A correspondent of the Times, writing from Iceland, gives some interesting particulars of the present condition of that island. At Reykiavik, its chief town, nothing was known of the reported volcanic disturbances in the interior of the island; but this is hardly to be wondered at, because a large portion of that area is occupied by snow-covered mountains and glaciers which the natives never visit, and which, it may be said, are never explored save by enterprising and adventurous tourists. Professor Tromholt is in Iceland, pursuing his researches on the aurora borealis, the frequency and brilliancy of which, coupled with the exceeding clearness of the atmosphere, give him every advantage. A large portion of Iceland still remains unexplored; and its mineral resources, if we except the large quantities of sulphur which are being worked by an English Company, are but slightly developed. There is still room for a brisk trade in coal, borax, copper, &c., which are abundant on the island. Besides these products, the fisheries of Iceland are most prolific; and although fish and its belongings form two-thirds of the total exports, it is believed that they offer a promising field for the further employment of capital.
Among the wonderful engineering projects of the present day must be mentioned the scheme for making Paris a seaport. This subject lately engaged the attention of the Rouen Congress of the French Association for the Advancement of Science, who gave to it two days’ discussion. One of the chief promoters of the project explained that the proposed way to carry it out was by transforming the river Seine, by dredging operations, into a canal ninety-eight feet in width. The amount of soil to be removed would measure close upon one hundred million cubic yards; it would consist chiefly of gravel and alluvial earth. The cost of the entire undertaking is estimated at four millions sterling.
Much attention has of recent years been called to the neglected art of Irish lace-making. The beauty of design and careful execution of old specimens of Irish lace contrast very remarkably with modern productions, which are too often coarse and inartistic. An Exhibition held last year at the Mansion House, London, and another still more lately at Cork, have to some extent aroused popular interest in this most beautiful class of work, and have given some impetus to the Royal Irish School of Art Needlework. In addition to the labours of this self-supporting Society, which is doing its best in the dissemination of good patterns and the employment of trained teachers, South Kensington has sent one of its emissaries, in the person of Mr Alan Cole, who has made lace-work his particular study, to lecture throughout the country. This gentleman is now in Ireland, travelling about the country wherever his presence is required, and teaching the application of artistic design to the technical requirements of the beautiful fabric.
A pretty picture, exhibited some short time ago, represented a little child looking up inquiringly to the intelligent face of a collie dog, and was entitled ‘Can’t you Talk?’ Sir John Lubbock has lately been asking this question of a little black poodle, and has been endeavouring to teach it to make its wants known by the use of cards with written characters upon them. Thus, one card bears the word ‘Food,’ another ‘Out;’ and the dog has been taught to bring either the one or the other to his master, and to distinguish between the meanings of the two. It seems doubtful whether the dog in this case uses the faculty of sight or smell; and it would be a source of some interest and amusement to those possessing an obedient dog, and with time at their disposal, to carry out the same kind of experiments, using new cards every time. It is constantly brought home to any observing owner of a dog that the animal understands a great deal more than he is generally credited with. In one case, we knew of a Dandy Dinmont who became so excited when certain things were mentioned in which he was interested, that French words had to be used in place of English ones when he was present. Their intelligence is truly marvellous. The wife of the editor of this Journal possesses a terrier which, while his mistress is out driving, will remain quietly in the parlour during her absence, taking no heed of other vehicles that may come to the front-door in the interval, but instantly recognising by some intuitive perception the arrival of the carriage or cab that has restored his mistress. Be it noted that the room in which Tim is confined during these temporary partings is at the back of the house, apart altogether from the front-door. This special power of discrimination on the part of our favourite has always been a marvel to us.
Colonel Stuart Wortley, commenting upon Sir John Lubbock’s experiments, tells an interesting story concerning a cat which he found during the Crimean War. The poor creature was pinned to the ground by a bayonet which had fallen and pierced its foot. The colonel released it; and the animal attached itself to him, and remained with him to the end of the war. The first two mornings of their acquaintance the cat was taken to the doctor’s tent to have his wound dressed. The third morning, the colonel was on duty; but the cat found its way to the doctor’s all the same, scratching at the tent for admission, and holding up its paw for examination.
Some months ago, when every one who had more money than scientific knowledge was hastening to invest in electric-lighting schemes, we gave a few words of warning as to the risks involved. That we were not wrong is evidenced by the collapse of so many of the Companies which were then issuing rose-coloured prospectuses. We now learn that so many people have suffered loss in this way, that there is the greatest difficulty in floating any scheme in which the word ‘Electricity’ occurs; and although inventors are still producing wonderful things, they cannot get support. There seems, however, to be no doubt whatever about the genuine success of the Edison Company in New York. The annual Report of the Company recently issued says that the Pearl Street Station in that city is working up to its full capacity. It has nine thousand eight hundred and eleven incandescent lamps in use, and the machinery has been kept running night and day without cessation since September 1882. The Company has now two hundred and forty-six installations at work, with a total of more than sixty thousand lamps. It may be mentioned as a matter of interest that Edison has had two hundred and fifteen patents actually granted him, and one hundred more have been filed. Every small item of his mechanical contrivances forms the subject of a patent specification.
There is just now such a great demand for handsomely marked leather, such as that obtained from alligator and boa skin, that the supply is not nearly equal to said demand. A large proportion of leather sold as the product of the alligator is really a photograph of the original article. It is managed in this way. The real skin, with its curious rectangular spaces separated by grooved markings, is carefully photographed. From the negative thus obtained a copy is produced in bichromated gelatine, which has the property, under the action of light, of affording images in relief. This is easily reproduced in metal, which serves the purpose of a die. Common cheap leather is now taken and placed with this die under heavy pressure, when all the delicate markings of the alligator skin are indelibly impressed upon it. The finished product can be stained in any way required, but is more frequently preferred to remain the brown colour left by the tanning operation. Such is the most recent trade-application of the fable of the jackdaw and the peacock’s feathers.
An American paper calls attention to a theory of life which, it asserts, was held by the great Faraday. This theory makes the duration of life depend upon the time occupied in growth, leaving all questions of disease or accident which may shorten life out of the question altogether. Man occupies twenty years in the business of growing. This number multiplied by five will give the age to which he ought, under favourable circumstances, to live—namely, one hundred years. A camel, occupying eight years in growing, ought to live by the same rule forty years; and so on with other animals. Human life he divided into two periods—growth and decline, and these were subdivided into infancy, lasting from birth to the age of twenty; youth, lasting from twenty to fifty; virility, from fifty to seventy-five; after which comes age.