the day is not distant when, instead of importing, the Americans will be exporting kaolins. But to return to the pottery. The spar and quartz have passed the ordeals of fire and water and grinding; the kaolin has been crushed and washed at the mines; but none of these are yet pure enough to undergo the simple processes which shall transmute them into the strong yet fragile, delicate yet imperishable, stone chinas or porcelains of the day. In the "slip-room" are three great wooden cisterns half filled with a creamy liquid, which is being constantly driven around, as cream is whirled in a rotary churn, by upright armed shafts. This creamy liquid is the "slip," which will form the body of MOULDS. THROWING AND TURNING. the ware: it is merely the kaolin, quartz, and feldspar suspended in water. When sufficiently incorporated and even, it will be allowed to flow down into the large cisterns in the story below. Here it is still whirling, whirling, but filtering off slowly into the fine silk sieves of the purifier. These, as they spring back and forth with regular motion, retain the sand, spangles of mica, or other impurities, allowing only the delicate argillaceous liquid to filter through. Thence it passes to vats in the cellar below, where it is still agitated to prevent its settling in a thick tenacious mass. We next see it taken from the bags of the hydraulic presses, whither it has been conveyed by pipes through the cellar. Deprived of its water, it is now a pale nankeen-colored dough. Passing the store-room, one may see it piled in great masses ready for use. Now we shall see something of life and motion in the large room where the "wedgers" and "throwers" are standing before their blocks and lathes, each with his assistant, generally a boy or girl. A barrow-load of this nankeen-colored clay has just been brought in. The "wedger" takes a lump of, say, twenty pounds' weight, lays it on the kneading THE BATTER. the potter's wheel, increasing its capacity twenty-five per cent., was first successfully made in America. Its use is almost universal, though hand-power, as a matter of convenience, is still utilized in certain branches of ceramic manufacture in both large and small potteries. Bottles, jars, cups, bowls, boxes-indeed, all articles of simple circular form-may be accurately and rapidly thrown"; but watch this cup-maker, and you will see how the use of a mould, taking the place of the disk on the spindle of the "wheel," will insure greater certainty and uniformity of size. The plaster mould fits into a metal top called the "jigger-head"; a lump of clay is thrown into its cup-shaped hollow; as the mould revolves a few simple touches of the hand shape it to the sides and bottom, and in an instant it is ready to go to the store-room, where it will soon "set" sufficiently for burnishing. Fifty or sixty dozen may be made in a single day by a man and his assistant; add to this a simple mechanical block before him, cuts it in two perpen- | contrivance called the "pull-down"-a dicularly by means of a strong-handled wire; then dexterously swinging one half high in the air, brings it down with a thud on the other. Again he cuts it, now horizontally, throws the under half up at arm's-length, and brings it down vigorously on the upper, repeating the operation until all the air is expelled, and the clay is ready for "throwing," or moulding. The young potter throws a lump of clay on the disk before him, and sets it in motion. Whir, whir, goes the hidden mystic wheel. Fast and faster flies the disk, and the flying clay, controlled by his guiding hand, rises and swells, flares, and falls into lines of beauty. It seems as if the magic of all the centuries gathers in his touch, for while we gaze come tapering base, slender neck, and drooping rim, and, lo! the vase is finished. piece of steel which takes the place of the potter's hand-and one hundred dozen will be the result. Up and down the long rooms wherever we go are hanging shelves filled with the "green" and drying wares, and on either side are rows of busy workmen. What are these doing? Making plates and dishes. That sturdy lad pounding the clay into sheets is the "batter." Now the batter takes the sheet, deftly throws it over an inverted plate mould, hands it to the plate-maker, who trims the edges with his finger, places it on the disk, and sets the wheel in motion; the "profile," a small pearl china tool held in the potter's hand, barely touching the whirling clay, smooths the surface, and cuts out a clean edge and lower rim, the plate being then ready for the stove-room. Burnishing is accomplished in a similar The application of steam as a motor to manner by placing the plate, still on the mould, when it has "set" in the "stove- | jaunty young fellows carrying trays and room," upon the disk, and holding a bit of smooth china in contact with its surface while it revolves. It is then set away to dry for "burning." In the mould-room we find again the long array of hanging shelves, on which at least half of the ware has changed to a dull white, and seems ready for the kiln, but we miss the whir and excitement that reign below. The batters, however, are full of life, and continue pounding, and supplying the moulders with sheets of clay. These sheets are pressed gently into the hollow moulds, which are usually in two parts, and are made of plaster, a material that rapidly absorbs their moisture. As soon as the clay fits into all the cavities the two halves are brought together, the exuding clay trimmed off, and the piece laid aside to set, or shrink; the mould is then easily removed, the seams of the jug or dish smoothed with a damp cloth, and the handles attached, when it is ready to join its neighbors on the dryingshelves. The color of the "green" or freshly made ware is a delicate faded olive or pea green, which gradually becomes a dull dead white, at which time it is quite ready for the biscuit kiln, where it undergoes its first burning, and becomes a brilliant white dense body. Passing to and fro are a number of boards full of ware to the kiln-rooms, where groups of men are arranging them in curious clay boxes, called "seggars." They are charging the kiln, that is to say, packing it with ware for burning. The cup seggars are shallow, holding but one row of cups, which must stand each on its bottom, or foot, for burning; the plate seggars are deep enough to hold a dozen or more, every plate being supported from underneath its rim by three clay pins projecting from the sides of the seggar. Look inside the great kiln that towers fifty feet into the air; it is almost "charged." One above another, reaching nearly to the inner roof, the seggars are piled in slender columns, with small spaces between each column for the passage of flame and smoke. The crevices of the clay boxes are carefully sealed with bands of fire-clay, for the merest touch of sulphurous gas or smoke would tarnish the bright white ware. The last column is now piled within the kiln, the great iron door closed and luted round with clay, and every crevice stopped. It is already evening, with shadows deepening into night; the fires are started in the surrounding furnaces; they crackle and roar, the smoke of their burning issuing in volumes from the top. One by one the lights that have been flitting to and fro are extinguished, the workmen are all leaving save two, who from time to time during the night will feed the fiery furnace mouths that already begin to cast their glare across the dark ness. We have followed the crude material to its first burning, one of the most important stages of the manufacture, for on its success largely depends the after-character of the ware. The biscuit must be fired just so as to obtain its full contraction, else the glaze, however perfect in proportion, will inevitably crack, or "craze." The preparation of the glaze is quite as important, for it is composed of materials subject to great contraction, namely, quartz-feldspar, Paris white, borax, and a little lead. These, with the exception of the latter article, are "fritted" or melted in an oven till they run like molasses; they then harden, and are crushed and ground in water. Having lost much of their contractility, they are now ready to coat the ware, and will fuse and harden on the biscuit without "crazing." Once more it is morning, and we visit another pottery, arriving in time to witness one of the most stirring events of the day, "the drawing of the kiln." The ware is now ready for enamelling or painting overglaze. Fifty hours the great dragon mouths of | for the ware rings like the bells on the the furnaces at its base have been belch- tower of Nankin. ing flames and heated gases into its sealed interior; forty hours ago they ceased, the fires dying out in ashes. The massive door is open; mounted on ladders within are several young men handing down seggars to their companions below, who pass them outside to the men on the platform near the kiln steps. The ware is turned out, exquisitely white and brilliantly polished. Piles and piles of dishes and strings of cups are delivered to a little company of lads, who bustle off with them to the group of girls standing in the doorway of the room yonder, from which there soon proceeds a musical click click, click click, In the decorating departments we find a number of men and women beautifying the biscuit or the glazed ware, some painting or printing, others enamelling and laying on bands of color. Here is a lad "lining" a pitcher with gold; it stands firmly on a wooden disk which he revolves with his left hand, while his right holds a brush charged with color just near enough to touch the whirling form and leave upon it a line of reddish-brown, which fire and burnishing will transmute into gold. |