Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 5, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 October 1874 — FIRE-SCREENS. [ARTICLE]

FIRE-SCREENS.

BY LUCY J. RIDER.

“Nonsense! That’s too thin!” exclaimed Lewis, throwing down his book ia some excitement. Lewis’ mother looked around from her sewing. “ What is it?” said she. “Why, mother, just listen;” and, picking up his book again, Lewis read: “ ■lt was at least ten miles to the nearest shore, and late at night, so we built a roaring fire on the ice out of the broken sled, and wrapping our buffalo skins around tnr lay down -to sleepand," mother, he goes right on to tell of Cutting'through the ice, and then he finishes off by declaring that his whole story is a true one!” and again the book went down. “Oh!” said Mrs. Morrell, quietly; “I understand now. You mean that the ice of your storv is too ‘ thin.’ I thought at first it sounded like slang.” Lewis colored and laughed a little. “ I’m sorry, mother, but the fact is, such a yarn as that would make a minister forget. I like a made-up story well enough, when a fellow knows what it is, but when a man says he tells the truth, I like to have him tell it.” “Well, what is the trouble with this man’s Story?” “ Why, Mother Morrell! a roaring fire on ice arfoot thick! In the first place I don’t believe they could build a fire at all on ice; the ice would melt and the water would put it out. But, s’posing they could* how long would it take a big fire to melt through a foot of ice?” Mrs. Morrell did not answer, but there was something in her quiet smile that made Lewis feel a little uncertain. “Say, mother, wouldn’t it melt right through?” - J ust then a new idea popped into his head, and he jumped up, knocking over the fire-screen in his hurry, and scaring Johnny’s kitten almost out of her senses. “I’ll find out,” he exclaimed, “ this very night. There’s a tub of water frozen over in the yard, and it isn’t eight o’clock yet.” “ Le’ me go, too—mayn’t I, ma?” asked Johnny, getting interested, now his kitten had run off under the sofa; and, permission being granted, ofl they went. In a little while they came back with rosy faces and numb fingers. “ We built a fire right in a tub!”shouted Johnny. “Lt did burn,” oiried Lewis. “ The ice was so thin it wouldn’t hardly bear the wood, but we made a little pile right in the middle, and it all burned out and didn’t melt through • at all!” and Lewis sat down on a stool, put his feet to the fire, and shielded his face from the heat with a a paper. “ Yes,” put in Johhny, “ it shined just like the Fourth of July, and we warmed our fingers; didn’t we, Lewie?” and he spread his little red hands toward the fire to warm them again. “ Fourth o’ July! you don’t very often get such cold weather as this Fourtht o’ July.” “ Johnny means it was a nice bonfire,” explained the mother. “ I peeped under the sticks to see why it didn’t melt,” said Lewis, “ but I couldn’t find out. It looked wet at first, and I thought ’twas going, but it didn’t even wet the ashes through. It was very strange.” “Very strange,” echoed little John, looking thoughtful. “Why do you hold that paper before your face, Lewie?” asked Mrs. Morrell. “So I can get mv feet warm without burning my face all up.” “ Oh! then the heat don’t go through the paper?” - “ No, ma’am, not much.” es “Well, the reason why the ice .didn’t melt was that there was a fire-screen like your paper between it and the fire.” Lewis came round on his stool very suddenly, and Johnny was so surprised that he forgot to warm his hands. “ Why, mother, there wasn’t anything at all between ’em. The fire was right on the ice,” cried Lewis. “ I thought you said the ice melted a little.”

“ So it did, at first.” “Then wasn’t there a layer of water over the ice?” j “So there was,” nodded Lewis. ‘ Well, that was the fire-screen that kept the heat from the ice, and it was a much better one than your paper is.” “ Why-ee!” exclaimed Johnny. •-» “ Now.” continued Mrs. Morrell, “isl only had a deep dish of thin glass I could show you with the thermometer how perfectly a little water will protect anything from heat. I would fill the . dish with water, and ” “ Look-a-here, mother, why can’t we use this case ?’’ cried Lewis, carefully lifting the glass cover, from a beautiful wax cross that stood on the table. “Turn this over and it makes a nice dish, and we won’t break it.” * “Isl was sure we wouldn’t break It,” said Mrs. Morrell, “it would be just the thing, and 1 guess we’ll run the risk. Lewis, bring in a pitcher of water and a match; and, Johnny, run to papa's office and ask him to send me a bottle, of ether," t When, they cable hack Mrs. Morrell I took the thermometer from the mantel

and put it, wrong end up, into the ghuacase, which was turned over, making & deep, round-bottomed dish. This she held steady on the table, and desired Lewis to pour water into it till the thermometer was covered. “ Now, Lewis,” said she, “ I will keep the dish steady, and you may pour a little of this ether on the water. You kqow ether don’t mix with water, and, as it’s lighter, will all stay on top. Then light the match and hold to it, and it will take fire and burn like coal-oil on the water; and if any heat passes down to the bulb of mercury the thermometer will show it. How far is the bulb below the water, Lewis?” “ It’s only just covered. Hadn’t I better put] on a little more water?” “ No, if it’s fairly covered that’s all that is necessary. Now, Johnny, it shall be your work to look through the side of the case, and tell us if the mercury in the tube moves. How does it stand now?” “ Seventy-one,” said Johnny, twisting bis head round to read the inverted figures. “All right. Now, Lewis, turn slowly, and be careful and not smell it.” Lewis, trembling with anxiety, turned a little from the ether-bottle on the water. “That’ll do,” said his mother; “now light it.” Scratch! crackle! went the match in Lewis’ eager fingers, and, with a little pufk the ether burst into a light, wavy flame. “ Oh! oh!” exclaimed Johnny. “ Look! look!” cried Lewis, in great excitement. “ Does it stir?” “ You can too, while it’s burning,” said Mrs. Morrell. Down went the boy on his knees by his brother. “ Does it stir?” “No, no! not a bit,” cried the boys—nor did it stir at all, though the ether burned son* time. “ My gracious!” said Johnny, when the flame finally died avray. “It looked just as if the water was burning. But wasn’t it pretty?” Mrs. Morrell lifted the thermometer and put her finger on the bulb.-The mercury rose to ninety degrees. “ See,” said she, “ even the warmth of my finger raises it twenty degrees, and the intense heat qfthat burning ether would have sentTt up a great ways If it had reached it; but that little layer water kept it all away.” “ I wouldn’t have believed it,” said Lewis. “ But see here, mother, will a layer of water protect wood or anything else from the heat just the same as ice?” “Yes, of course.” “ Then it will keep heat from passing through to other watpr, won’t it?” “ Yes, if you can keep your different layers of water perfectly still.” “ Well, then, I don’t see how in the world you can ever heat any water. I should think the layer of water next to the bottom of the kettle would prevent all the rest from getting any of the fire.” “ Yes; but the idea is, you can’t keep your different layers of water separate and quiet when you apply the heat from below, because warm water is lighter than cold, and the layer on the bottom, instead of lying still and protecting the rest, rises to the top as soon as it gets heated a little, giving place to another layer of cold; which gets warm and rises in the same way; and so the story goes on till all is warm.” “ Sure enough,” said Lewis; “ that’s as plain aa it can be.” “ Let’s see if we can’t make it a little plainer,” said Mrs. Morrell. “ While we have this bell-glass we may as well use it.” So saying, she filled it again about half full of water, and producing from her work-basket a paper of coarse gray powder she sprinkled a little into the water. It floated slowly down and finally settled in a little heap at the bottom. “ What’s that?” asked Johnny, who was a good deal more interested in the experiments than in the explanations. “It don’t make any difference what it is,” replied his mother. “Any coarse powder that don’t dissolve in water and isn’t too heavy would do just as well.” Mrs. Morrell then held the cover directly over the gas-jet. As the water over the flame became heated it rose nearly to the surface, carrying the bits of powder with it. Then it fell gracefully over like a fountain, and sank slowly down by the sides of the dish to the bottom again. . “Oh, how pretty! It’s as nice as a fountain!” cried the boys. “Itiaa fountain,” said their mother, “ only it’s in water instead of in air.” “ And there’s one of these fountains every time any one heats water,” said Lewis, admiringly. “ Does it, mamma? Does the water go just so in all the\big black kettle?” queried little John. “ Yes, dear,” said mamma. “ But, Lewis, don’t you think you owe your magazine-man an apology for calling his story ‘thin?’” Lewis turned around to the magazine, still on the floor in the corner, and, making a very low bow, “ I’m very sorry that I called yon thin, old fellow,” said he; “ you’re all right, it seems, and it’s somebody else that’s thin, after all. So now, if you’ll excuse me, we’ll Shake hands ana call it even.” So saying, he picked up the book, shook it vigorously, and laid it on the table. „ Johnny laughed. Then he gave a great yawn. “ Come,-Lew. let’s go to bed,” said he. —Christian Union.

Working men are apt to consider that their occupations alone are laborious, but in that matter they are mistaken. Labor of mind is generally even more fatiguing than labor of the body, and it is quite erroneous to suppose that others do not work as well as we do simply because their work is different from oars. Labor is the earthly condition of man, and, until the nature of man is changed, the want of something,. to do will produce all the horrors of ennui. Gambling and other reprehensible dissipations are all owing to the fact that human nature cannot support a state of idleness. T —A Detroit gentleman who purchased a box of peaches at the Central market, the other day, looked around for a boy who would carry them home, and presently he found a ragged lad seated on a bench eating the last remnant of a pear. The man asked him if be wouldn’t like to earn ten cents by carrying the box to such a number and street, and the boy promptly replied that he wouldn’t. “Why?* queried the man. “Why?” echoed the boy, “ because dad died the other day and now I’m head of the family, and bow’d I look iuggin’ peachea. around?" . '