424 



FARMERS' REGISTER 



[No. 7 



mix it with a small portion of muriatic acid, in a 

 glass retort, and on the application of heat the 

 chlorine is evolved. Either alone, or in combina- 

 tion with lime or magnesia, it may be, and is, em- 

 ployed for bleaching paper. I have no objection 

 to its being used by the manufacturer in bleaching 

 his linen and calico, but against the practice of 

 bleaching paper I do protest. The consequences 

 of thus using chlorine — which has the properly of 

 destroying ink and other colors — are, that many 

 valuable epistles become illegible, and some have 

 even dropped to pieces on the. road. Some of our 

 best modern books are already tottering on their 

 shelves; and numerous deeds and valuable wri- 

 tings, requiring to be kept a great number of years, 

 will, ere a very lew, become useless. I have in 

 my possession the remnant of a royal octavo vol- 

 ume, one of an edition of 30,000 copies, printed at 

 the University press in 1818, and it is a singular 

 fact, that there is not a perfect copy now existing. 

 We find that when any thing of a delicate color is 

 wrapped up in white paper ihe color is destroyed. 

 A silk manufacturer once told me he. could not pre- 

 serve his colored silks; he used the whitest and 

 cleanest paper he could procure to wrap them in, 

 but the colors invariably faded, I told him for the 

 future to wrap them in common colored, or brown, 

 paper — he did so, and the silks retained their deli- 

 cate hues. Paper stainers have lost hundreds of 

 pounds in value, in consequence of the destruction 

 of their goods by chlorine. This oris has also the 

 property of dissolving gold. I knew a bulton 

 merchant, who sent a quantity of gilt buttons to 

 London for sale; being an expensive article, he 

 took care to have them securely packed in white 

 paper that they might be kept perfectly clean. 

 The consequence was that the. gilt corroded, and 

 the buttons were returned unsaleable. Every 

 thing now-a-days — such is the rage for bleaching 

 — must be bleached. Our linen must be bleached, 

 though by that means we render it yellow; our 

 calico must be bleached, our ginger must be 

 bleached, although at the expense of destroying 

 the very principle which renders it valuable; and 

 by-and-by, I suppose, we shall be bleaching our 

 daily bread. Let us, however, view the case as 

 we ought. If we have an inferior article, paper 

 for instance, the fault is ours, not the paper ma- 

 kers. 



We fix our prices, and if I am determined to 

 have a quire of paper for 4d. the manufacturer 

 knowing he cannot furnish it of sterling quality, is 

 obliged to resort to the expedient of bleaching, for 

 the purpose of giving a good exterior to a bad ma- 

 terial. Perhaps the subject may be illustrated this 

 way: suppose I want a pound of confectionary, I 

 walk into the confectioner's, and say, "if you let 

 me have it for 4d. I'll take it, and if not, why I 

 can obtain it elsewhere;" never, for a moment, re- 

 collecting that the very materials, or perhaps 

 merely the sugar, costs double the sum. The con- 

 sequence of this mode of proceeding is, that we 

 have the privilege of swallowing with our confec- 

 tionary a sufficient quantity of chalk. To such a 

 pitch has the bleaching of paper been carried, 

 that government find themselves obliged to em- 

 ploy a person to watch the manufacture of the pa- 

 per they require, for the purpose of securing it of 

 a good quality. I know of two cases in which 

 letters containing money have fallen to pieces by 

 the road. One was directed to the post-master of 



Sheffield, and it so happened that the check was 

 found in the post bag — the person for whom the 

 other letter was intended, was not so fortunate. 

 Every thing is now made up into paper, and in 

 consequence of its being bleached, we do not so 

 easily detect the inferiority. I have by me spe- 

 cimens of paper made not only from wool and 

 leather, but from the bark of the willow, from hay 

 and straw, potato peelings, wood shavings, saw 

 this"; and in short, any thing can be made into pa- 

 per, such as it is. 



From the London Horticultural Register. 

 CULTURE OF THE CAULIFLOWER. 



The ground on which the cauliflower plants are. 

 Intended to be planted can scarcely be made too 

 rich, therefore lay on a large portion of rotten 

 dung, and dig it well in. 



The best, soil in which to sow the seed is one 

 somewhat light, and for the first spring sowings 

 rather rich; at all other sowings this is not mate- 

 rial. 



Always plant in open, airy situations, for the 

 plants will never form good heads under the shel- 

 ter or drip of trees; sometimes none at all. 



The varieties known amongst us are only two, 

 the early, and the late. The difference betwixt 

 them is very trifling; the one called the early, has 

 a slight purple or red color in its stalks, and pro- 

 bably is a little hardier than the other, and 

 therefore is generally sown in the autumn, to pre- 

 serve in frames or under hand glasses, for the first 

 crop in spring. 



Cauliflowers are raised annually from seeds, and 

 arc liable, like cabbages, to be impregnated by 

 bees, &c, during the time of flowering. 



There are three principal seasons for sow- 

 ing, ami all three require some little difference in 

 their treatment. 



First sowing season. — This continues from Feb- 

 ruary to the end of March, and the plants are in- 

 tended to succeed those sown the previous autumn. 

 During this season, two sowings are usuallv made, 

 one in February, and the other in March; both 

 require precisely the same treatment, which may 

 be stated as follows: — 



Make a hotbed about two feet six inches thick, 

 and as broad and long as may be necessary, for 

 the seed intended to be sown. 



When Ihe bed is made, put on a frame, and 

 cover it down with lights, to draw up the heat, 

 and let it remain about a week to settle, which 

 will reduce it to something less than two feet; 

 then take off the frame, and level the surface of 

 the bed nicely, and replace the frame again on the 

 bed. 



This being done, lay about six inches thickness 

 of light rich soil, and on this thinly scatter the 

 seed; sift a little soil over the surface, just to cover 

 it. On the same bed, both radishes and celery 

 may be sown, as they will interfere very little with 

 each other by being mixed. 



After the seed is sown, cover down the frame, 

 and so let it remain, until the young plants begin 

 to appear, which will be in a few days. Then 

 give air, and in a few days afterwards remove the 

 lights altogether, during the day, and merely shel- 

 ter them at nights from sharp frosts, or heavy 

 dashing rains. ""Or, if the frame be wanted for 



