The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1886-07-17
LONDON RUBBISH.
How It Is Brought Again Into
Useful Channels.


II any of our readers are in the habit
of passing a contractors or towns
yard, he will, perhaps, remember per-
cciving, alongside the outer walls, a
busy scene going on, which he can not
exactly make out. A crowd of women
toiling and moiling amid heaps of rub
bish, two or three barges laden with
vegetable refuse, he can distinguish
plainly enough, but it is not until he
sees a string of dustcarts slowly wend-
ing their way towards the distant
wharf, that the thought flashes upon
his mind that the busy human ants he
has been watching are scavengers,
sorting and arranging the refuse of the
great towns and cities. There is moth
ing particularly attractive in a scaven-
gers yard: neither the sights nor the
smells are pleasant; nevertheless, the
scene that here meets his eye, repellant
as it is, could not exist in any other
than high state of civilization. When
we think of it, the dust bin is the tomb
of the householder; it is the grave into
which all our domestic surroundings
inevitably sink. Of old, in the ruder
states of society, this dust and refuse
found its final rest in mother earth;
but with us, its removal by the scaven-
ger is only the first stage of its eleva-
ton TO higher existence, if we may
so speak. In detail, as it exists in
every household, it is a nuisance to be
got rid of; in the aggregate. it becomes
a valuable commodity, to be re-im-
ported into our arts and manufactures.
As the great numbering carts arrive
in dust-contractor' yard, their con-
tents are emptied into isolated heaps.
No sooner does this take place. than
they are each in detail attacked by
grimy men, who remove all the larger
articles, such as vegetable matter, old
coalscuttles, old crinolines-or rather
crinolettes-old hats and old garments.
This is kind of rough sitting which
prepares the heap for the attacks of
the women, who instantly settle upon
every heap like flock of crows that
may happen to spy any carrion in a
field. Each woman as she settles upon
the heap comes sieve in hand and
spreads around her number of bas-
kets; the man now fills the sieve and
the process of separating the dust-heap
into its elements begins. The first few
shakes of the sieve throw down all the
fine ashes and the coal dust This de-
tritus becomes q very valuable COM
modify when collected and put to its
right use. 1t is used by brick-makers
to mix with the clay, and does its part
in the ultimate baking of the brick.
In the neighborhood of most of our
railways our readers may have noticed
vast heaps of fine black dust burning
with "a slow combustion and with much
smoke. These heaps consist of bricks
which are being baked. They are
placed in rows little apart. and their
interstices are filed with the fine
breeze as the coal-ashes are termed;
a light is set below, and
gradually the whole mass fires
20 a dull red heat, the breeze
intimately mixed with the clay helping
to bake the inside of the brick in the
most perfect manner without vitrify-
ing it. The breeze is the most valu-
able portion of the dust, and it rises
or falls in value according to the
amount of building going on and to
the rate of its production; in the sum-
mer but little, comparatively, is made.
Coal-dust, it must be remembered, is
entirely distinct refuse from road
dust, which also possesses certain
value, as we shall show by-and-by.
When all the finer refuse has passed
through the sieve, the larger and
coarser articles remain upon the top.
There glisten some pieces of broken
glass; this, of course, only requires to
be remelted to be put once more into
circulation in the world. Considering
the brittle nature of this material and
the enormous quantities of it employed,
it is fortunate that it is almost indie
structible. When we break window
we only alter the arrangement of its
particles. Broken into a thousand
pieces, it remains as good glass as
ever; time will not touch it. The rem
pants of glass that are found among
the Roman remains that have been
lying in the ground for two thousand
years. are as fit for the glass-pot as
though it had been made yesterday;
phials and old bottles are rarely even
Clipped, hence they are merely washed
and they pass again into the drawers
Of the chemist or apothecary.
Bones form another constant contri-
button to the sieve, and a valuable
item they are to the dust-contractor.
There is grand tussle going on for
their possession both by the manufact-
urer and the agriculturist. The larger
bones are first boiled, in order to ex-
tract all their fat and gelatine. The
purposes the former article is put to
are too numerous to be mentioned; q
good deal of the finer kind goes to
make pomatum and soap; the gelatine
S, we doubt not, used as the basis of