That is not to say that I recommend every man to have a magic lantern
in his cellar, or the promiscuous purchase of all sorts of useless
things as though the world were a kind of providential rummage sale.
I should rather say that no effort to in any way add to one's stock
of knowledge is likely to come amiss in this world of changes and
emergencies, and that Providence has a way of ranging itself on the
side of the man with the strongest battalions of resources when the
emergency does come. In other words, that to "trust God and keep
your powder dry" is the plan for all time.
The process of keeping mine dry came near blowing up the house. My
two friends, Mackellar and Wells, took a sympathetic interest in
the lantern proceedings, which was well, because, being a druggist,
Wells knew about making the gas and could prevent trouble on that
tack. It was before the day of charged tanks. The gas we made was
contained in wedge-shaped rubber bags, in a frame with weights on
top that gave the necessary pressure. Mackellar volunteered to be
the weight, and sat on the bags, at our first seance, while Wells
superintended the gas and I read the written directions.
Pages:
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209