Prior to the brief sensation created by the so-called
discovery of the manufacture of diamonds by Mr.
Hannay, he had written for his country paper an
interesting article on the chemical manufacture of
gems. During the year 1880 he made some interesting
experiments with Thames water, took samples of
the river at the point where the Princess Alice was
lost, and wrote an essay upon a drop of Thames
water. He followed it, from its birth, down the river
to London, and thence into the laboratory of the
chemist, treating the subject “ popularly,” but with
a fair balance of scientific information. I thought
so well of his paper that I offered it to a publisher,
believing it would make a useful handbook. The
reply was that “ we have a volume on the London
water-supply in hand, otherwise we should have been
very glad to undertake it.” Frank then, on his own
account, submitted the MS. to a London journal.
“ Cut it down and we will accept it.” He cut it down.
“ More cutting ” was the verdict. Then at last it was
accepted, and a liberal cheque was his reward. But it
was not published until he was in the midst of his
work in Borneo. There are two examples of these
youthful journalistic labours which I desire to reprint.
They are, “ The Adventures of a Drop of Thames
W ater,” which appeared in the Whitehall Review, and
“ A Visit to Rothschild’s and to the British Mint,”
which appeared in Bradstreets.
THE ADVENTURES OF A DROP OF THAMES WATER.
A s p a r k l in g aqueous crystal flashing in the Sunlight, and reflecting
all the colours of the rainbow. Down it came through the pure air,
splashing at last into a pool among the roots of an oak in Gloucestershire.
Here it made the acquaintance of innumerable other drops.
The short summer showers ceased, and then the sun hurst through
the clouds and shed a flood of golden radiance over the quiet landscape.
Some drops rose at once into the air, and were home away on the wings
of the wind. Others, less fortunate, were swallowed up by mother
earth ; the one whose career I propose to follow was among the latter.
After soaking through the superficial soil it came upon a crevice in
the rock, down which it bounded, dashing from side to side, dissolving
and carrying away particles of rock, washing a fern, or starting a pebble
from some projecting ledge. Presently it came upon an underground
cavern, from the roof of which hung curiously formed stalactites, and
along the bottom mshed a noisy stream. Our drop ran down the
sides of one of the longest pendent masses, depositing in its course
most of the foreign materials collected above, and thus contributing
its little to the growth of the column. Soon falling off the stalactite
it was carried on, with a host of companion drops, by the gurgling
brook below. On a sudden there was a stoppage of the whole stream
by the pressure of the oncoming water up a narrow channel. Our
aqueous adventurer now ascended as fast as it had before descended.
A minute later and it was running along the course of a noisy rivulet.
Away it went between green banks, washing the long grasses and
the spreading burdock leaves. Dancing on in the sunlight, past
dozing cottages and sleeping homesteads, the stream receives recruits
from other rivulets and fountains, and soon fresh supplies pour in
from either side. In due time our drop has helped to turn a mill.
Hear Kemble Meads it sails proudly under its first “ bridge”—a
few rough stepping-stones thrown into the streamlet. How, as it
approaches Lechlade, it encounters many fish. Still pure and limpid,
it passes on, collecting but little organic matter from the banks, and
that mainly of vegetable origin. Gradually the river widens: our
little drop is almost lost in the immense volume of flowing water.
But now its troubles begin. On the right of the river, about a foot
above the water, a large pipe pours a blue liquid into the Thames.
In the distance are tall chimneys, sending forth volumes of smoke
into the atmosphere. The first pollution! Our drop dissolves some
quantity of the factory filth, and continues its course less buoyantly.
But soon it assists to wash sheep, and, loaded with some of their
dirt, it becomes turbid from the entrance on either side of the water
of drainage from manured land and the discharges of more fibre works.
These latter are filthy liquids, sometimes blue from colouring dyes,
sometimes brown from suspended rubbish. Sadly and slowly the
tiny drop continues its course down the now polluted river, until it