496 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS. 



A decoction of oak-bark would make ink, though of inferior 

 quality, and so would tea, inasmuch as the tea-leaf contains a 

 large amount of tannin. In fact, whenever the ink in the bottle 

 become thick, it can always be restored by adding to it a little 

 strong tea, which not only gives the requisite liquidity, but does 

 so without affecting the blackness, which would probably be the 

 case if simple water were added. 



The two principal ingredients of the ink which is in common 

 use are sulphate of iron and the gaUs of a species of oak called 

 Quercus infectoria, which grows in large quantities in the Levant. 

 They are technically termed Aleppo gaUs, and are divided into 

 several classes, according to their value. Besides these two in- 

 gredients a little gum is added, in order to give consistency, and 

 a very little corrosive sublimate or creosote, to prevent the growth 

 of mould. The proportions are generally six ounces of poimded 

 gaUs, four ounces of copperas, and four ounces of gum arabic to 

 six pints of water. 



In the upper left hand comer of the Ulustratiou two of these 

 galls are seen upon a branch of the oak. 



They are necessarily much reduced in size, their ordinary 

 diinensions being about equal to those of Cynips KollarL For 

 the purposes of trade they are divided into black, blue, green, 

 and white galls. The last mentioned dass of galls includes 

 those from which the insects have escaped, and which are conse- 

 quently weakened in astringency. They are so called because 

 they assume a paler hue than the three first classes, in which the 

 insect still remains. In shape, the ink-gaU is nearly spherical, 

 with a slight tendency to a pear-like form, and their exterior is 

 defended by a few short, stout, and rather sharp prickles. 



I cannot but think that the gall-insect affords a proof that the 

 most insignificant objects of creation have their uses, provided 

 that we could only discover them. Nature is a vast treasure- 

 house, or rather a city of treasure-houses, very few of which 

 have been unlocked because no one has found the keys. No one 

 indeed is Ukely to do so, as long as he chooses to despise " little 

 things," and if the only acknowledged benefit conferred on 

 mankind by the insect tribes had been the ink-gall, it is a boon 

 so great that every insect ought to deserve our respect as the 

 possible donor of some similar aid to civilization at present 

 unknown. 



