pencil, and he thought it must be of use to those who
practiced drawing."

"How funny that sounds!" exclaimed Malcolm. "Why, I couldn't get along
without my India-rubber when I make mistakes,"

"You might," said his governess, "if you had some stale bread to rub
with; for people _have_ gotten along without a great many things which
they now think necessary."

"Miss Harson," said Clara, "won't you tell us, please, how they get the
caoutch--whatever it is--and make it into India-rubber?"

"I will," was the laughing reply, "when you can say the word properly.
C-a-o-u-t-c-h-o-u-c--koochook."

As Clara said, Miss Harson made things so easy to understand! and in a
very short time the hard word was mastered.

"As I have never seen the sap gathered," continued the young lady, "I
shall have to read you an account of it, instead of telling you from my
own experience; but the description is so plain that I think we shall
all be able to understand it very well: 'At certain seasons of the year
the natives visit some islands in the river Amazon that for many months
are covered with water. As soon as the water subsides and a footing can
be obtained the Indians arrive in parties, to seek for the trees. The
Indian who comes every morning to collect the juice from the trunk has a
number of trees allotted to him, and goes the round of the whole. The
previous night he has made a long, deep cut in the bark of each and hung
an earthen vessel beneath, to receive the thick, creamlike substance
that trickles down. The vessel is filled by morning, and he pours the
contents into one much larger and carries it to his hut. He is provided
with a number of moulds of different shapes and sizes, and he dips them
into the juice and puts them aside to dry. They are then dipped again,
and the process is continued until the coat of India-rubber on the mould
is of sufficient thickness. It is made black by passing it through the
smoke of burning palm-nuts. The moulds are broken and taken out, leaving
the India-rubber ready for sale, and pretty much as we used to see it in
the shops before the people of this country had learned how to
work it.'"

"That seems easy enough," said Malcolm, "but how do they make it into
gutta-percha?"

"Gutta-percha is not made," replied his governess, "and it is taken from
an entirely different tree, the _Icosandra gutta_, which grows in
Southern Asia. The milky fluid is procured in the same way, but it is
placed in ve