Every one has at some time or another received in change a ragged bill, sometimes in such a dilapidated condition that it is held together with pieces of gummed tissue-paper, made expressly for that purpose. When such bills are received, the desire is to get rid of them as quickly as possible, and so they pass from hand to hand, until finally they reach some bank that will turn them into one of Uncle Sam's treasuries.
Uncle Sam would like to keep his paper money clean, and he endeavors to withdraw from circulation every ragged bill. Eventually most every bill finds its way back to the Treasury after a life of from two to four years, except those that are lost, or destroyed in fires, etc. It is an almost impossible task to recall them all, yet the number that are withdrawn provide work for a large department in the Treasury Building at Washington. If one passes through the corridors and should glance into this room, he will see a lot of girls busily counting bundles of dirty greenbacks of all denominations. When the count is carefully tabulated, the bundles are stacked on the floor in small piles. It is not an uncommon sight to see two of the girl counters seated on a pile of these bills chatting to each other, doubtless of some social matter, utterly regardless of the fact that they may be sitting on some hundred thousand dollars of actual money.
The end of these old bills that have served their purpose so faithfully has a certain amount of pathos. If one is fortunate enough to be present when a committee of three officers of the Treasury send them to their destruction, a curious, almost indescribable sensation will creep over one. This destruction takes place in a room in the Treasury Building. There is a small table in the centre of the room, and on this the bundled bills are piled in reckless confusion. Through two holes in the floor at the end of the table can be seen the large cylinders or macerators into which the bills are placed. They are about the size of locomotive boilers. A large funnel is inserted in one of the holes, and it connects with one of the macerators. The bills are then untied and thrown into the mouth of this funnel. It is amusing to see one of the committee take a stick when they become jammed and prod them through. When the last one is safely in, a mixture of lime and soda-ash is placed in the macerator, a cover is clamped over the ventricle, and each member of the committee fastens it with a separate lock. Steam is then turned on, and the cylinders are set in motion. When the bills have been thoroughly macerated the pulp is drawn off and taken to a paper-machine, where it is made into sheets of paper, and afterwards sold.
Some one suggested the idea of using part of the pulp to make little fancy images. The idea was adopted, and dainty little knick-knacks made of the pulp can be bought in the stores in Washington. The salesmen often induce the possible purchaser to buy by telling him that the image at one time represented a large sum of money.
To pick up one of these images is to give rise to thought, for here embodied in a small compass is that which was once part of the greatest power in the world.
A wise young woman understands
That Ivory Soap is best to use
For outing flannels, sunburned hands,
Light summer gowns and tennis shoes.
Copyright, 1896, by The Procter & Gamble Co., Cin'ti.