Chapter IV

I explained that the anilin dyes are built up upon the benzene ring of six carbon atoms. The rubber ring consists of eight at least and probably more. Any substance containing that peculiar carbon chain with two double links C=C-C=C can double up--polymerize, the chemist calls it--into a rubber-like substance. So we may have many kinds of rubber, some of which may prove to be more useful than that which happens to be found in nature.

With the structural formula of Harries as a clue chemists all over the world plunged into the problem with renewed hope. The famous Bayer dye works at Elberfeld took it up and there in August, 1909, Dr. Fritz Hofmann worked out a process for the converting of pure isoprene into rubber by heat. Then in 1910 Harries happened upon the same sodium reaction as Matthews, but when he came to get it patented he found that the Englishman had beaten him to the patent office by a few weeks.

This Anglo-German rivalry came to a dramatic climax in 1912 at the great hall of the College of the City of New York when Dr. Carl Duisberg, of the Elberfeld factory, delivered an address on the latest achievements of the chemical industry before the Eighth--and the last for a long time--International Congress of Applied Chemistry. Duisberg insisted upon talking in German, although more of his auditors would have understood him in English. He laid full emphasis upon German achievements and cast doubt upon the claim of "the Englishman Tilden" to have prepared artificial rubber in the eighties. Perkin, of Manchester, confronted him with his new process for making rubber from potatoes, but Duisberg countered by proudly displaying two automobile tires made of synthetic rubber with which he had made a thousand-mile run.

The intense antagonism between the British and German chemists at this congress was felt by all present, but we did not foresee that in two years from that date they would be engaged in manufacturing poison gas to fire at one another. It was, however, realized that more was at stake than personal reputation and national prestige. Under pressure of the new demand for automobiles the price of rubber jumped from $1.25 to $3 a pound in 1910, and millions had been invested in plantations. If Professor Perkin was right when he told the congress that by his process rubber could be made for less than 25 cents a pound it meant that these plantations would go the way of the indigo plantations when the Germans succeeded in making artificial indigo. If Dr. Duisberg was right when he told the congress that synthetic rubber would "certainly appear on the market in a very short time," it meant that Germany in war or peace would become independent of Brazil in the matter of rubber as she had become independent of Chile in the matter of nitrates.

As it turned out both scientists were too sanguine. Synthetic rubber has not proved capable of displacing natural rubber by underbidding it nor even of replacing natural rubber when this is shut out. When Germany was blockaded and the success of her armies depended on rubber, price was no object. Three Danish sailors who were caught by United States officials trying to smuggle dental rubber into Germany confessed that they had been selling it there for gas masks at $73 a pound. The German gas masks in the latter part of the war were made without rubber and were frail and leaky. They could not have withstood the new gases which American chemists were preparing on an unprecedented scale. Every scrap of old rubber in Germany was saved and worked over and over and diluted with fillers and surrogates to the limit of elasticity. Spring tires were substituted for pneumatics. So it is evident that the supply of synthetic rubber could not have been adequate or satisfactory. Neither, on the other hand, have the British made a success of the Perkin process, although they spent $200,000 on it in the first two years. But, of course, there was not the same necessity for it as in the case of Germany, for England had practically a monopoly of the world's supply of natural rubber either through owning plantations or controlling shipping. If rubber could not be manufactured profitably in Germany when the demand was imperative and price no consideration it can hardly be expected to compete with the natural under peace conditions.

The problem of synthetic rubber has then been solved scientifically but not industrially. It can be made but cannot be made to pay. The difficulty is to find a cheap enough material to start with. We can make rubber out of potatoes--but potatoes have other uses. It would require more land and more valuable land to raise the potatoes than to raise the rubber. We can get isoprene by the distillation of turpentine--but why not bleed a rubber tree as well as a pine tree? Turpentine is neither cheap nor abundant enough. Any kind of wood, sawdust for instance, can be utilized by converting the cellulose over into sugar and fermenting this to alcohol, but the process is not likely to prove profitable. Petroleum when cracked up to make gasoline gives isoprene or other double-bond compounds that go over into some form of rubber.

But the most interesting and most promising of all is the complete inorganic synthesis that dispenses with the aid of vegetation and starts with coal and lime. These heated together in the electric furnace form calcium carbide and this, as every automobilist knows, gives acetylene by contact with water. From this gas isoprene can be made and the isoprene converted into rubber by sodium, or acid or alkali or simple heating. Acetone, which is also made from acetylene, can be converted directly into rubber by fuming sulfuric acid. This seems to have been the process chiefly used by the Germans during the war. Several carbide factories were devoted to it. But the intermediate and by-products of the process, such as alcohol, acetic acid and acetone, were in as much demand for war purposes as rubber. The Germans made some rubber from pitch imported from Sweden. They also found a useful substitute in aluminum naphthenate made from Baku petroleum, for it is elastic and plastic and can be vulcanized.

So although rubber can be made in many different ways it is not profitable to make it in any of them. We have to rely still upon the natural product, but we can greatly improve upon the way nature produces it. When the call came for more rubber for the electrical and automobile industries the first attempt to increase the supply was to put pressure upon the natives to bring in more of the latex. As a consequence the trees were bled to death and sometimes also the natives. The Belgian atrocities in the Congo shocked the civilized world and at Putumayo on the upper Amazon the same cause produced the same horrible effects. But no matter what cruelty was practiced the tropical forests could not be made to yield a sufficient increase, so the cultivation of the rubber was begun by far-sighted men in Dutch Java, Sumatra and Borneo and in British Malaya and Ceylon.

Brazil, feeling secure in the possession of a natural monopoly, made no effort to compete with these parvenus. It cost about as much to gather rubber from the Amazon forests as it did to raise it on a Malay plantation, that is, 25 cents a pound. The Brazilian Government clapped on another 25 cents export duty and spent the money lavishly. In 1911 the treasury of Para took in $2,000,000 from the rubber tax and a good share of the money was spent on a magnificent new theater at Manaos--not on setting out rubber trees. The result of this rivalry between the collector and the cultivator is shown by the fact that in the decade 1907-1917 the world's output of plantation rubber increased from 1000 to 204,000 tons, while the output of wild rubber decreased from 68,000 to 53,000. Besides this the plantation rubber is a cleaner and more even product, carefully coagulated by acetic acid instead of being smoked over a forest fire. It comes in pale yellow sheets instead of big black balls loaded with the dirt or sticks and stones that the honest Indian sometimes adds to make a bigger lump. What's better, the man who milks the rubber trees on a plantation may live at home where he can be decently looked after. The agriculturist and the chemist may do what the philanthropist and statesman could not accomplish: put an end to the cruelties involved in the international struggle for "black gold."

The United States uses three-fourths of the world's rubber output and grows none of it. What is the use of tropical possessions if we do not make use of them? The Philippines could grow all our rubber and keep a $300,000,000 business under our flag. Santo Domingo, where rubber was first discovered, is now under our supervision and could be enriched by the industry. The Guianas, where the rubber tree was first studied, might be purchased. It is chiefly for lack of a definite colonial policy that our rubber industry, by far the largest in the world, has to be dependent upon foreign sources for all its raw materials. Because the Philippines are likely to be cast off at any moment, American manufacturers are placing their plantations in the Dutch or British possessions. The Goodyear Company has secured a concession of 20,000 acres near Medan in Dutch Sumatra.

While the United States is planning to relinquish its Pacific possessions the British have more than doubled their holdings in New Guinea by the acquisition of Kaiser Wilhelm's Land, good rubber country. The British Malay States in 1917 exported over $118,000,000 worth of plantation-grown rubber and could have sold more if shipping had not been short and production restricted. Fully 90 per cent. of the cultivated rubber is now grown in British colonies or on British plantations in the Dutch East Indies. To protect this monopoly an act has been passed preventing foreigners from buying more land in the Malay Peninsula. The Japanese have acquired there 50,000 acres, on which they are growing more than a million dollars' worth of rubber a year. The British _Tropical Life_ says of the American invasion: "As America is so extremely wealthy Uncle Sam can well afford to continue to buy our rubber as he has been doing instead of coming in to produce rubber to reduce his competition as a buyer in the world's market." The Malaya estates calculate to pay a dividend of 20 per cent. on the investment with rubber selling at 30 cents a pound and every two cents additional on the price brings a further 3-1/2 per cent. dividend. The output is restricted by the Rubber Growers' Association so as to keep the price up to 50-70 cents. When the plantations first came into bearing in 1910 rubber was bringing nearly $3 a pound, and since it can be produced at less than 30 cents a pound we can imagine the profits of the early birds.

The fact that the world's rubber trade was in the control of Great Britain caused America great anxiety and financial loss in the early part of the war when the British Government, suspecting--not without reason--that some American rubber goods were getting into Germany through neutral nations, suddenly shut off our supply. This threatened to kill the fourth largest of our industries and it was only by the submission of American rubber dealers to the closest supervision and restriction by the British authorities that they were allowed to continue their business. Sir Francis Hopwood, in laying down these regulations, gave emphatic warning "that in case any manufacturer, importer or dealer came under suspicion his permits should be immediately revoked. Reinstatement will be slow and difficult. The British Government will cancel first and investigate afterward." Of course the British had a right to say under what conditions they should sell their rubber and we cannot blame them for taking such precautions to prevent its getting to their enemies, but it placed the United States in a humiliating position and if we had not been in sympathy with their side it would have aroused more resentment than it did. But it made evident the desirability of having at least part of our supply under our own control and, if possible, within our own country. Rubber is not rare in nature, for it is contained in almost every milky juice. Every country boy knows that he can get a self-feeding mucilage brush by cutting off a milkweed stalk. The only native source so far utilized is the guayule, which grows wild on the deserts of the Mexican and the American border. The plant was discovered in 1852 by Dr. J.M. Bigelow near Escondido Creek, Texas. Professor Asa Gray described it and named it Parthenium argentatum, or the silver Pallas. When chopped up and macerated guayule gives a satisfactory quality of caoutchouc in profitable amounts. In 1911 seven thousand tons of guayule were imported from Mexico; in 1917 only seventeen hundred tons. Why this falling off? Because the eager exploiters had killed the goose that laid the golden egg, or in plain language, pulled up the plant by the roots. Now guayule is being cultivated and is reaped instead of being uprooted. Experiments at the Tucson laboratory have recently removed the difficulty of getting the seed to germinate under cultivation. This seems the most promising of the home-grown plants and, until artificial rubber can be made profitable, gives us the only chance of being in part independent of oversea supply.

There are various other gums found in nature that can for some purposes be substituted for caoutchouc. Gutta percha, for instance, is pliable and tough though not very elastic. It becomes plastic by heat so it can be molded, but unlike rubber it cannot be hardened by heating with sulfur. A lump of gutta percha was brought from Java in 1766 and placed in a British museum, where it lay for nearly a hundred years before it occurred to anybody to do anything with it except to look at it. But a German electrician, Siemens, discovered in 1847 that gutta percha was valuable for insulating telegraph lines and it found extensive employment in submarine cables as well as for golf balls, and the like.

Balata, which is found in the forests of the Guianas, is between gutta percha and rubber, not so good for insulation but useful for shoe soles and machine belts. The bark of the tree is so thick that the latex does not run off like caoutchouc when the bark is cut. So the bark has to be cut off and squeezed in hand presses. Formerly this meant cutting down the tree, but now alternate strips of the bark are cut off and squeezed so the tree continues to live.

When Columbus discovered Santo Domingo he found the natives playing with balls made from the gum of the caoutchouc tree. The soldiers of Pizarro, when they conquered Inca-Land, adopted the Peruvian custom of smearing caoutchouc over their coats to keep out the rain. A French scientist, M. de la Condamine, who went to South America to measure the earth, came back in 1745 with some specimens of caoutchouc from Para as well as quinine from Peru. The vessel on which he returned, the brig _Minerva_, had a narrow escape from capture by an English cruiser, for Great Britain was jealous of any trespassing on her American sphere of influence. The Old World need not have waited for the discovery of the New, for the rubber tree grows wild in Annam as well as Brazil, but none of the Asiatics seems to have discovered any of the many uses of the juice that exudes from breaks in the bark.

The first practical use that was made of it gave it the name that has stuck to it in English ever since. Magellan announced in 1772 that it was good to remove pencil marks. A lump of it was sent over from France to Priestley, the clergyman chemist who discovered oxygen and was mobbed out of Manchester for being a republican and took refuge in Pennsylvania. He cut the lump into little cubes and gave them to his friends to eradicate their mistakes in writing or figuring. Then they asked him what the queer things were and he said that they were "India rubbers."

[Illustration: FOREST RUBBER

Compare this tropical tangle and gnarled trunk with the straight tree and cleared ground of the plantation. At the foot of the trunk are cups collecting rubber juice.]

[Illustration: PLANTATION RUBBER

This spiral cut draws off the milk as completely and quickly as possible without harming the tree. The man is pulling off a strip of coagulated rubber that clogs it.]

[Illustration: IN MAKING GARDEN HOSE THE RUBBER IS FORMED INTO A TUBE BY THE MACHINE ON THE RIGHT AND COILED ON THE TABLE TO THE LEFT]

The Peruvian natives had used caoutchouc for water-proof clothing, shoes, bottles and syringes, but Europe was slow to take it up, for the stuff was too sticky and smelled too bad in hot weather to become fashionable in fastidious circles. In 1825 Mackintosh made his name immortal by putting a layer of rubber between two cloths.

A German chemist, Ludersdorf, discovered in 1832 that the gum could be hardened by treating it with sulfur dissolved in turpentine. But it was left to a Yankee inventor, Charles Goodyear, of Connecticut, to work out a practical solution of the problem. A friend of his, Hayward, told him that it had been revealed to him in a dream that sulfur would harden rubber, but unfortunately the angel or defunct chemist who inspired the vision failed to reveal the details of the process. So Hayward sold out his dream to Goodyear, who spent all his own money and all he could borrow from his friends trying to convert it into a reality. He worked for ten years on the problem before the "lucky accident" came to him. One day in 1839 he happened to drop on the hot stove of the kitchen that he used as a laboratory a mixture of caoutchouc and sulfur. To his surprise he saw the two substances fuse together into something new. Instead of the soft, tacky gum and the yellow, brittle brimstone he had the tough, stable, elastic solid that has done so much since to make our footing and wheeling safe, swift and noiseless. The gumshoes or galoshes that he was then enabled to make still go by the name of "rubbers" in this country, although we do not use them for pencil erasers.

Goodyear found that he could vary this "vulcanized rubber" at will. By adding a little more sulfur he got a hard substance which, however, could be softened by heat so as to be molded into any form wanted. Out of this "hard rubber" "vulcanite" or "ebonite" were made combs, hairpins, penholders and the like, and it has not yet been superseded for some purposes by any of its recent rivals, the synthetic resins.

The new form of rubber made by the Germans, methyl rubber, is said to be a superior substitute for the hard variety but not satisfactory for the soft. The electrical resistance of the synthetic product is 20 per cent, higher than the natural, so it is excellent for insulation, but it is inferior in elasticity. In the latter part of the war the methyl rubber was manufactured at the rate of 165 tons a month.

The first pneumatic tires, known then as "patent aerial wheels," were invented by Robert William Thomson of London in 1846. On the following year a carriage equipped with them was seen in the streets of New York City. But the pneumatic tire did not come into use until after 1888, when an Irish horse-doctor, John Boyd Dunlop, of Belfast, tied a rubber tube around the wheels of his little son's velocipede. Within seven years after that a $25,000,000 corporation was manufacturing Dunlop tires. Later America took the lead in this business. In 1913 the United States exported $3,000,000 worth of tires and tubes. In 1917 the American exports rose to $13,000,000, not counting what went to the Allies. The number of pneumatic tires sold in 1917 is estimated at 18,000,000, which at an average cost of $25 would amount to $450,000,000.

No matter how much synthetic rubber may be manufactured or how many rubber trees are set out there is no danger of glutting the market, for as the price falls the uses of rubber become more numerous. One can think of a thousand ways in which rubber could be used if it were only cheap enough. In the form of pads and springs and tires it would do much to render traffic noiseless. Even the elevated railroad and the subway might be opened to conversation, and the city made habitable for mild voiced and gentle folk. It would make one's step sure, noiseless and springy, whether it was used individualistically as rubber heels or collectivistically as carpeting and paving. In roofing and siding and paint it would make our buildings warmer and more durable. It would reduce the cost and permit the extension of electrical appliances of almost all kinds. In short, there is hardly any other material whose abundance would contribute more to our comfort and convenience. Noise is an automatic alarm indicating lost motion and wasted energy. Silence is economy and resiliency is superior to resistance. A gumshoe outlasts a hobnailed sole and a rubber tube full of air is better than a steel tire.

IX

THE RIVAL SUGARS

The ancient Greeks, being an inquisitive and acquisitive people, were fond of collecting tales of strange lands. They did not care much whether the stories were true or not so long as they were interesting. Among the marvels that the Greeks heard from the Far East two of the strangest were that in India there were plants that bore wool without sheep and reeds that bore honey without bees. These incredible tales turned out to be true and in the course of time Europe began to get a little calico from Calicut and a kind of edible gravel that the Arabs who brought it called "sukkar." But of course only kings and queens could afford to dress in calico and have sugar prescribed for them when they were sick.

Fortunately, however, in the course of time the Arabs invaded Spain and forced upon the unwilling inhabitants of Europe such instrumentalities of higher civilization as arithmetic and algebra, soap and sugar. Later the Spaniards by an act of equally unwarranted and beneficent aggression carried the sugar cane to the Caribbean, where it thrived amazingly. The West Indies then became a rival of the East Indies as a treasure-house of tropical wealth and for several centuries the Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, English, Danes and French fought like wildcats to gain possession of this little nest of islands and the routes leading thereunto.

The English finally overcame all these enemies, whether they fought her singly or combined. Great Britain became mistress of the seas and took such Caribbean lands as she wanted. But in the end her continental foes came out ahead, for they rendered her victory valueless. They were defeated in geography but they won in chemistry. Canning boasted that "the New World had been called into existence to redress the balance of the Old." Napoleon might have boasted that he had called in the sugar beet to balance the sugar cane. France was then, as Germany was a century later, threatening to dominate the world. England, then as in the Great War, shut off from the seas the shipping of the aggressive power. France then, like Germany later, felt most keenly the lack of tropical products, chief among which, then but not in the recent crisis, was sugar. The cause of this vital change is that in 1747 Marggraf, a Berlin chemist, discovered that it was possible to extract sugar from beets. There was only a little sugar in the beet root then, some six per cent., and what he got out was dirty and bitter. One of his pupils in 1801 set up a beet sugar factory near Breslau under the patronage of the King of Prussia, but the industry was not a success until Napoleon took it up and in 1810 offered a prize of a million francs for a practical process. How the French did make fun of him for this crazy notion! In a comic paper of that day you will find a cartoon of Napoleon in the nursery beside the cradle of his son and heir, the King of Rome--known to the readers of Rostand as l'Aiglon. The Emperor is squeezing the juice of a beet into his coffee and the nurse has put a beet into the mouth of the infant King, saying: "Suck, dear, suck. Your father says it's sugar."

In like manner did the wits ridicule Franklin for fooling with electricity, Rumford for trying to improve chimneys, Parmentier for thinking potatoes were fit to eat, and Jefferson for believing that something might be made of the country west of the Mississippi. In all ages ridicule has been the chief weapon of conservatism. If you want to know what line human progress will take in the future read the funny papers of today and see what they are fighting. The satire of every century from Aristophanes to the latest vaudeville has been directed against those who are trying to make the world wiser or better, against the teacher and the preacher, the scientist and the reformer.

In spite of the ridicule showered upon it the despised beet year by year gained in sweetness of heart. The percentage of sugar rose from six to eighteen and by improved methods of extraction became finally as pure and palatable as the sugar of the cane. An acre of German beets produces more sugar than an acre of Louisiana cane. Continental Europe waxed wealthy while the British West Indies sank into decay. As the beets of Europe became sweeter the population of the islands became blacker. Before the war England was paying out $125,000,000 for sugar, and more than two-thirds of this money was going to Germany and Austria-Hungary. Fostered by scientific study, protected by tariff duties, and stimulated by export bounties, the beet sugar industry became one of the financial forces of the world. The English at home, especially the marmalade-makers, at first rejoiced at the idea of getting sugar for less than cost at the expense of her continental rivals. But the suffering colonies took another view of the situation. In 1888 a conference of the powers called at London agreed to stop competing by the pernicious practice of export bounties, but France and the United States refused to enter, so the agreement fell through. Another conference ten years later likewise failed, but when the parvenu beet sugar ventured to invade the historic home of the cane the limit of toleration had been reached. The Council of India put on countervailing duties to protect their homegrown cane from the bounty-fed beet. This forced the calling of a convention at Brussels in 1903 "to equalize the conditions of competition between beet sugar and cane sugar of the various countries," at which the powers agreed to a mutual suppression of bounties. Beet sugar then divided the world's market equally with cane sugar and the two rivals stayed substantially neck and neck until the Great War came. This shut out from England the product of Germany, Austria-Hungary, Belgium, northern France and Russia and took the farmers from their fields. The battle lines of the Central Powers enclosed the land which used to grow a third of the world's supply of sugar. In 1913 the beet and the cane each supplied about nine million tons of sugar. In 1917 the output of cane sugar was 11,200,000 and of beet sugar 5,300,000 tons. Consequently the Old World had to draw upon the New. Cuba, on which the United States used to depend for half its sugar supply, sent over 700,000 tons of raw sugar to England in 1916. The United States sent as much more refined sugar. The lack of shipping interfered with our getting sugar from our tropical dependencies, Hawaii, Porto Rico and the Philippines. The homegrown beets give us only a fifth and the cane of Louisiana and Texas only a fifteenth of the sugar we need. As a result we were obliged to file a claim in advance to get a pound of sugar from the corner grocery and then we were apt to be put off with rock candy, muscovado or honey. Lemon drops proved useful for Russian tea and the "long sweetening" of our forefathers came again into vogue in the form of various syrups. The United States was accustomed to consume almost a fifth of all the sugar produced in the world--and then we could not get it.

[Illustration: MAP SHOWING LOCATION OF EUROPEAN BEET SUGAR FACTORIES--ALSO BATTLE LINES AT CLOSE OF 1918 ESTIMATED THAT ONE-THIRD OF WORLDS PRODUCTION BEFORE THE WAR WAS PRODUCED WITHIN BATTLE LINES Courtesy American Sugar Refining Co.]

The shortage made us realize how dependent we have become upon sugar. Yet it was, as we have seen, practically unknown to the ancients and only within the present generation has it become an essential factor in our diet. As soon as the chemist made it possible to produce sugar at a reasonable price all nations began to buy it in proportion to their means. Americans, as the wealthiest people in the world, ate the most, ninety pounds a year on the average for every man, woman and child. In other words we ate our weight of sugar every year. The English consumed nearly as much as the Americans; the French and Germans about half as much; the Balkan peoples less than ten pounds per annum; and the African savages none.

[Illustration: How the sugar beet has gained enormously in sugar content under chemical control]

Pure white sugar is the first and greatest contribution of chemistry to the world's dietary. It is unique in being a single definite chemical compound, sucrose, C_{12}H_{22}O_{11}. All natural nutriments are more or less complex mixtures. Many of them, like wheat or milk or fruit, contain in various proportions all of the three factors of foods, the fats, the proteids and the carbohydrates, as well as water and the minerals and other ingredients necessary to life. But sugar is a simple substance, like water or salt, and like them is incapable of sustaining life alone, although unlike them it is nutritious. In fact, except the fats there is no more nutritious food than sugar, pound for pound, for it contains no water and no waste. It is therefore the quickest and usually the cheapest means of supplying bodily energy. But as may be seen from its formula as given above it contains only three elements, carbon, hydrogen and oxygen, and omits nitrogen and other elements necessary to the body. An engine requires not only coal but also lubricating oil, water and bits of steel and brass to keep it in repair. But as a source of the energy needed in our strenuous life sugar has no equal and only one rival, alcohol. Alcohol is the offspring of sugar, a degenerate descendant that retains but few of the good qualities of its sire and has acquired some evil traits of its own. Alcohol, like sugar, may serve to furnish the energy of a steam engine or a human body. Used as a fuel alcohol has certain advantages, but used as a food it has the disqualification of deranging the bodily mechanism. Even a little alcohol will impair the accuracy and speed of thought and action, while a large quantity, as we all know from observation if not experience, will produce temporary incapacitation.

When man feeds on sugar he splits it up by the aid of air into water and carbon dioxide in this fashion:

C_{12}H_{22}O_{11} + 12O_{2} --> 11H_{2}O + 12CO_{2} cane sugar oxygen water carbon dioxide

When sugar is burned the reaction is just the same.

But when the yeast plant feeds on sugar it carries the process only part way and instead of water the product is alcohol, a very different thing, so they say who have tried both as beverages. The yeast or fermentation reaction is this:

C_{12}H_{22}O_{11} + H_{2}O --> 4C_{2}H_{6}O + 4CO_{2} cane sugar water alcohol carbon dioxide

Alcohol then is the first product of the decomposition of sugar, a dangerous half-way house. The twin product, carbon dioxide or carbonic acid, is a gas of slightly sour taste which gives an attractive tang and effervescence to the beer, wine, cider or champagne. That is to say, one of these twins is a pestilential fellow and the other is decidedly agreeable. Yet for several thousand years mankind took to the first and let the second for the most part escape into the air. But when the chemist appeared on the scene he discovered a way of separating the two and bottling the harmless one for those who prefer it. An increasing number of people were found to prefer it, so the American soda-water fountain is gradually driving Demon Rum out of the civilized world. The brewer nowadays caters to two classes of customers. He bottles up the beer with the alcohol and a little carbonic acid in it for the saloon and he catches the rest of the carbonic acid that he used to waste and sells it to the drug stores for soda-water or uses it to charge some non-alcoholic beer of his own.

This catering to rival trades is not an uncommon thing with the chemist. As we have seen, the synthetic perfumes are used to improve the natural perfumes. Cottonseed is separated into oil and meal; the oil going to make margarin and the meal going to feed the cows that produce butter. Some people have been drinking coffee, although they do not like the taste of it, because they want the stimulating effect of its alkaloid, caffein. Other people liked the warmth and flavor of coffee but find that caffein does not agree with them. Formerly one had to take the coffee whole or let it alone. Now one can have his choice, for the caffein is extracted for use in certain popular cold drinks and the rest of the bean sold as caffein-free coffee.

Most of the "soft drinks" that are now gradually displacing the hard ones consist of sugar, water and carbonic acid, with various flavors, chiefly the esters of the fatty and aromatic acids, such as I described in a previous chapter. These are still usually made from fruits and spices and in some cases the law or public opinion requires this, but eventually, I presume, the synthetic flavors will displace the natural and then we shall get rid of such extraneous and indigestible matter as seeds, skins and bark. Suppose the world had always been used to synthetic and hence seedless figs, strawberries and blackberries. Suppose then some manufacturer of fig paste or strawberry jam should put in ten per cent. of little round hard wooden nodules, just the sort to get stuck between the teeth or caught in the vermiform appendix. How long would it be before he was sent to jail for adulterating food? But neither jail nor boycott has any reformatory effect on Nature.

Nature is quite human in that respect. But you can reform Nature as you can human beings by looking out for heredity and culture. In this way Mother Nature has been quite cured of her bad habit of putting seeds in bananas and oranges. Figs she still persists in adulterating with

## particles of cellulose as nutritious as sawdust. But we can circumvent

the old lady at this. I got on Christmas a package of figs from California without a seed in them. Somebody had taken out all the seeds--it must have been a big job--and then put the figs together again as natural looking as life and very much better tasting.

Sugar and alcohol are both found in Nature; sugar in the ripe fruit, alcohol when it begins to decay. But it was the chemist who discovered how to extract them. He first worked with alcohol and unfortunately succeeded.

Previous to the invention of the still by the Arabian chemists man could not get drunk as quickly as he wanted to because his liquors were limited to what the yeast plant could stand without intoxication. When the alcoholic content of wine or beer rose to seventeen per cent. at the most the process of fermentation stopped because the yeast plants got drunk and quit "working." That meant that a man confined to ordinary wine or beer had to drink ten or twenty quarts of water to get one quart of the stuff he was after, and he had no liking for water.

So the chemist helped him out of this difficulty and got him into worse trouble by distilling the wine. The more volatile part that came over first contained the flavor and most of the alcohol. In this way he could get liquors like brandy and whisky, rum and gin, containing from thirty to eighty per cent. of alcohol. This was the origin of the modern liquor problem. The wine of the ancients was strong enough to knock out Noah and put the companions of Socrates under the table, but it was not until distilled liquors came in that alcoholism became chronic, epidemic and ruinous to whole populations.

But the chemist later tried to undo the ruin he had quite inadvertently wrought by introducing alcohol into the world. One of his most successful measures was the production of cheap and pure sugar which, as we have seen, has become a large factor in the dietary of civilized countries. As a country sobers up it takes to sugar as a "self-starter" to provide the energy needed for the strenuous life. A five o'clock candy is a better restorative than a five o'clock highball or even a five o'clock tea, for it is a true nutrient instead of a mere stimulant. It is a matter of common observation that those who like sweets usually do not like alcohol. Women, for instance, are apt to eat candy but do not commonly take to alcoholic beverages. Look around you at a banquet table and you will generally find that those who turn down their wine glasses generally take two lumps in their demi-tasses. We often hear it said that whenever a candy store opens up a saloon in the same block closes up. Our grandmothers used to warn their daughters: "Don't marry a man who does not want sugar in his tea. He is likely to take to drink." So, young man, when next you give a box of candy to your best girl and she offers you some, don't decline it. Eat it and pretend to like it, at least, for it is quite possible that she looked into a physiology and is trying you out. You never can tell what girls are up to.

In the army and navy ration the same change has taken place as in the popular dietary. The ration of rum has been mostly replaced by an equivalent amount of candy or marmalade. Instead of the tippling trooper of former days we have "the chocolate soldier." No previous war in history has been fought so largely on sugar and so little on alcohol as the last one. When the war reduced the supply and increased the demand we all felt the sugar famine and it became a mark of patriotism to refuse candy and to drink coffee unsweetened. This, however, is not, as some think, the mere curtailment of a superfluous or harmful luxury, the sacrifice of a pleasant sensation. It is a real deprivation and a serious loss to national nutrition. For there is no reason to think the constantly rising curve of sugar consumption has yet reached its maximum or optimum. Individuals overeat, but not the population as a whole. According to experiments of the Department of Agriculture men doing heavy labor may add three-quarters of a pound of sugar to their daily diet without any deleterious effects. This is at the rate of 275 pounds a year, which is three times the average consumption of England and America. But the Department does not state how much a girl doing nothing ought to eat between meals.

Of the 2500 to 3500 calories of energy required to keep a man going for a day the best source of supply is the carbohydrates, that is, the sugars and starches. The fats are more concentrated but are more expensive and less easily assimilable. The proteins are also more expensive and their decomposition products are more apt to clog up the system. Common sugar is almost an ideal food. Cheap, clean, white, portable, imperishable, unadulterated, pleasant-tasting, germ-free, highly nutritious, completely soluble, altogether digestible, easily assimilable, requires no cooking and leaves no residue. Its only fault is its perfection. It is so pure that a man cannot live on it. Four square lumps give one hundred calories of energy. But twenty-five or thirty-five times that amount would not constitute a day's ration, in fact one would ultimately starve on such fare. It would be like supplying an army with an abundance of powder but neglecting to provide any bullets, clothing or food. To make sugar the sole food is impossible. To make it the main food is unwise. It is quite proper for man to separate out the distinct ingredients of natural products--to extract the butter from the milk, the casein from the cheese, the sugar from the cane--but he must not forget to combine them again at each meal with the other essential foodstuffs in their proper proportion.

[Illustration: THE RIVAL SUGARS The sugar beet of the north has become a close rival of the sugar cane of the south]

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF A SUGAR MILL SHOWING THE MACHINERY FOR CRUSHING CANE TO EXTRACT THE JUICE]

[Illustration: Courtesy of American Sugar Refinery Co.

VACUUM PANS OF THE AMERICAN SUGAR REFINERY COMPANY

In these air-tight vats the water is boiled off from the cane juice under diminished atmospheric pressure until the sugar crystallizes out]

Sugar is not a synthetic product and the business of the chemist has been merely to extract and purify it. But this is not so simple as it seems and every sugar factory has had to have its chemist. He has analyzed every mother beet for a hundred years. He has watched every step of the process from the cane to the crystal lest the sucrose should invert to the less sweet and non-crystallizable glucose. He has tested with polarized light every shipment of sugar that has passed through the custom house, much to the mystification of congressmen who have often wondered at the money and argumentation expended in a tariff discussion over the question of the precise angle of rotation of the plane of vibration of infinitesimal waves in a hypothetical ether.

The reason for this painstaking is that there are dozens of different sugars, so much alike that they are difficult to separate. They are all composed of the same three elements, C, H and O, and often in the same proportion. Sometimes two sugars differ only in that one has a right-handed and the other a left-handed twist to its molecule. They bear the same resemblance to one another as the two gloves of a pair. Cane sugar and beet sugar are when completely purified the same substance, that is, sucrose, C_{12}H_{22}O_{11}. The brown and straw-colored sugars, which our forefathers used and which we took to using during the war, are essentially the same but have not been so completely freed from moisture and the coloring and flavoring matter of the cane juice. Maple sugar is mostly sucrose. So partly is honey. Candies are made chiefly of sucrose with the addition of glucose, gums or starch, to give them the necessary consistency and of such colors and flavors, natural or synthetic, as may be desired. Practically all candy, even the cheapest, is nowadays free from deleterious ingredients in the manufacture, though it is liable to become contaminated in the handling. In fact sugar is about the only food that is never adulterated. It would be hard to find anything cheaper to add to it that would not be easily detected. "Sanding the sugar," the crime of which grocers are generally accused, is the one they are least likely to be guilty of.

Besides the big family of sugars which are all more or less sweet, similar in structure and about equally nutritious, there are, very curiously, other chemical compounds of altogether different composition which taste like sugar but are not nutritious at all. One of these is a coal-tar derivative, discovered accidentally by an American student of chemistry, Ira Remsen, afterward president of Johns Hopkins University, and named by him "saccharin." This has the composition C_{6}H_{4}COSO_{2}NH, and as you may observe from the symbol it contains sulfur (S) and nitrogen (N) and the benzene ring (C_{6}H_{4}) that are not found in any of the sugars. It is several hundred times sweeter than sugar, though it has also a slightly bitter aftertaste. A minute quantity of it can therefore take the place of a large amount of sugar in syrups, candies and preserves, so because it lends itself readily to deception its use in food has been prohibited in the United States and other countries. But during the war, on account of the shortage of sugar, it came again into use. The European governments encouraged what they formerly tried to prevent, and it became customary in Germany or Italy to carry about a package of saccharin tablets in the pocket and drop one or two into the tea or coffee. Such reversals of administrative attitude are not uncommon. When the use of hops in beer was new it was prohibited by British law. But hops became customary nevertheless and now the law requires hops to be used in beer. When workingmen first wanted to form unions, laws were passed to prevent them. But now, in Australia for instance, the laws require workingmen to form unions. Governments naturally tend to a conservative reaction against anything new.

It is amusing to turn back to the pure food agitation of ten years ago and read the sensational articles in the newspapers about the poisonous nature of this dangerous drug, saccharin, in view of the fact that it is being used by millions of people in Europe in amounts greater than once seemed to upset the tender stomachs of the Washington "poison squads." But saccharin does not appear to be responsible for any fatalities yet, though people are said to be heartily sick of it. And well they may be, for it is not a substitute for sugar except to the sense of taste. Glucose may correctly be called a substitute for sucrose as margarin for butter, since they not only taste much the same but have about the same food value. But to serve saccharin in the place of sugar is like giving a rubber bone to a dog. It is reported from Europe that the constant use of saccharin gives one eventually a distaste for all sweets. This is quite likely, although it means the reversal within a few years of prehistoric food habits. Mankind has always associated sweetness with food value, for there are few sweet things found in nature except the sugars. We think we eat sugar because it is sweet. But we do not. We eat it because it is good for us. The reason it tastes sweet to us is because it is good for us. So man makes a virtue out of necessity, a pleasure out of duty, which is the essence of ethics.

In the ancient days of Ind the great Raja Trishanku possessed an earthly paradise that had been constructed for his delectation by a magician. Therein grew all manner of beautiful flowers, savory herbs and delicious fruits such as had never been known before outside heaven. Of them all the Raja and his harems liked none better than the reed from which they could suck honey. But Indra, being a jealous god, was wroth when he looked down and beheld mere mortals enjoying such delights. So he willed the destruction of the enchanted garden. With drought and tempest it was devastated, with fire and hail, until not a leaf was left of its luxuriant vegetation and the ground was bare as a threshing floor. But the roots of the sugar cane are not destroyed though the stalk be cut down; so when men ventured to enter the desert where once had been this garden of Eden, they found the cane had grown up again and they carried away cuttings of it and cultivated it in their gardens. Thus it happened that the nectar of the gods descended first to monarchs and their favorites, then was spread among the people and carried abroad to other lands until now any child with a penny in his hand may buy of the best of it. So it has been with many things. So may it be with all things.

X

WHAT COMES FROM CORN

The discovery of America dowered mankind with a world of new flora. The early explorers in their haste to gather up gold paid little attention to the more valuable products of field and forest, but in the course of centuries their usefulness has become universally recognized. The potato and tomato, which Europe at first considered as unfit for food or even as poisonous, have now become indispensable among all classes. New World drugs like quinine and cocaine have been adopted into every pharmacopeia. Cocoa is proving a rival of tea and coffee, and even the banana has made its appearance in European markets. Tobacco and chicle occupy the nostrils and jaws of a large part of the human race. Maize and rubber are become the common property of mankind, but still may be called American. The United States alone raises four-fifths of the corn and uses three-fourths of the caoutchouc of the world.

All flesh is grass. This may be taken in a dietary as well as a metaphorical sense. The graminaceae provide the greater part of the sustenance of man and beast; hay and cereals, wheat, oats, rye, barley, rice, sugar cane, sorghum and corn. From an American viewpoint the greatest of these, physically and financially, is corn. The corn crop of the United States for 1917, amounting to 3,159,000,000 bushels, brought in more money than the wheat, cotton, potato and rye crops all together.

When Columbus reached the West Indies he found the savages playing with rubber balls, smoking incense sticks of tobacco and eating cakes made of a new grain that they called _mahiz_. When Pizarro invaded Peru he found this same cereal used by the natives not only for food but also for making alcoholic liquor, in spite of the efforts of the Incas to enforce prohibition. When the Pilgrim Fathers penetrated into the woods back of Plymouth Harbor they discovered a cache of Indian corn. So throughout the three Americas, from Canada to Peru, corn was king and it has proved worthy to rank with the rival cereals of other continents, the wheat of Europe and the rice of Asia. But food habits are hard to change and for the most part the people of the Old World are still ignorant of the delights of hasty pudding and Indian pudding, of hoe-cake and hominy, of sweet corn and popcorn. I remember thirty years ago seeing on a London stand a heap of dejected popcorn balls labeled "Novel American Confection. Please Try One." But nobody complied with this pitiful appeal but me and I was sorry that I did. Americans used to respond with a shipload of corn whenever an appeal came from famine sufferers in Armenia, Russia, Ireland, India or Austria, but their generosity was chilled when they found that their gift was resented as an insult or as an attempt to poison the impoverished population, who declared that they would rather die than eat it--and some of them did. Our Department of Agriculture sent maize missionaries to Europe with farmers and millers as educators and expert cooks to serve free flapjacks and pones, but the propaganda made little impression and today Americans are urged to eat more of their own corn because the famished families of the war-stricken region will not touch it. Just so the beggars of Munich revolted at potato soup when the pioneer of American food chemists, Bumford, attempted to introduce this transatlantic dish.

But here we are not so much concerned with corn foods as we are with its manufactured products. If you split a kernel in two you will find that it consists of three parts: a hard and horny hull on the outside, a small oily and nitrogenous germ at the point, and a white body consisting mostly of starch. Each of these is worked up into various products, as may be seen from the accompanying table. The hull forms bran and may be mixed with the gluten as a cattle food. The corn steeped for several days with sulfurous acid is disintegrated and on being ground the germs are floated off, the gluten or nitrogenous portion washed out, the starch grains settled down and the residue pressed together as oil cake fodder. The refined oil from the germ is marketed as a table or cooking oil under the name of "Mazola" and comes into competition with olive, peanut and cottonseed oil in the making of vegetable substitutes for lard and butter. Inferior grades may be used for soaps or for glycerin and perhaps nitroglycerin. A bushel of corn yields a pound or more of oil. From the corn germ also is extracted a gum called "paragol" that forms an acceptable substitute for rubber in certain uses. The "red rubber" sponges and the eraser tips to pencils may be made of it and it can contribute some twenty per cent. to the synthetic soles of shoes.

[Illustration: CORN PRODUCTS]

Starch, which constitutes fifty-five per cent. of the corn kernel, can be converted into a variety of products for dietary and industrial uses. As found in corn, potatoes or any other vegetables starch consists of small, round, white, hard grains, tasteless, and insoluble in cold water. But hot water converts it into a soluble, sticky form which may serve for starching clothes or making cornstarch pudding. Carrying the process further with the aid of a little acid or other catalyst it takes up water and goes over into a sugar, dextrose, commonly called "glucose." Expressed in chemical shorthand this reaction is

C_{6}H_{10}O_{5} + H_{2}O --> C_{6}H_{12}O_{6} starch water dextrose

This reaction is carried out on forty million bushels of corn a year in the United States. The "starch milk," that is, the starch grains washed out from the disintegrated corn kernel by water, is digested in large pressure tanks under fifty pounds of steam with a few tenths of one per cent. of hydrochloric acid until the required degree of conversion is reached. Then the remaining acid is neutralized by caustic soda, and thereby converted into common salt, which in this small amount does not interfere but rather enhances the taste. The product is the commercial glucose or corn syrup, which may if desired be evaporated to a white powder. It is a mixture of three derivatives of starch in about this proportion:

Maltose 45 per cent. Dextrose 20 per cent. Dextrin 35 per cent.

There are also present three- or four-tenths of one per cent. salt and as much of the corn protein and a variable amount of water. It will be noticed that the glucose (dextrose), which gives name to the whole, is the least of the three ingredients.

Maltose, or malt sugar, has the same composition as cane sugar (C_{12}H_{22}O_{11}), but is not nearly so sweet. Dextrin, or starch paste, is not sweet at all. Dextrose or glucose is otherwise known; as grape sugar, for it is commonly found in grapes and other ripe fruits. It forms half of honey and it is one of the two products into which cane sugar splits up when we take it into the mouth. It is not so sweet as cane sugar and cannot be so readily crystallized, which, however, is not altogether a disadvantage.

The process of changing starch into dextrose that takes place in the great steam kettles of the glucose factory is essentially the same as that which takes place in the ripening of fruit and in the digestion of starch. A large part of our nutriment, therefore, consists of glucose either eaten as such in ripe fruits or produced in the mouth or stomach by the decomposition of the starch of unripe fruit, vegetables and cereals. Glucose may be regarded as a predigested food. In spite of this well-known fact we still sometimes read "poor food" articles in which glucose is denounced as a dangerous adulterant and even classed as a poison.

The other ingredients of commercial glucose, the maltose and dextrin, have of course the same food value as the dextrose, since they are made over into dextrose in the process of digestion. Whether the glucose syrup is fit to eat depends, like anything else, on how it is made. If, as was formerly sometimes the case, sulfuric acid was used to effect the conversion of the starch or sulfurous acid to bleach the glucose and these acids were not altogether eliminated, the product might be unwholesome or worse. Some years ago in England there was a mysterious epidemic of arsenical poisoning among beer drinkers. On tracing it back it was found that the beer had been made from glucose which had been made from sulfuric acid which had been made from sulfur which had been made from a batch of iron pyrites which contained a little arsenic. The replacement of sulfuric acid by hydrochloric has done away with that danger and the glucose now produced is pure.

The old recipe for home-made candy called for the addition of a little vinegar to the sugar syrup to prevent "graining." The purpose of the acid was of course to invert part of the cane sugar to glucose so as to keep it from crystallizing out again. The professional candy-maker now uses the corn glucose for that purpose, so if we accuse him of "adulteration" on that ground we must levy the same accusation against our grandmothers. The introduction of glucose into candy manufacture has not injured but greatly increased the sale of sugar for the same purpose. This is not an uncommon effect of scientific progress, for as we have observed, the introduction of synthetic perfumes has stimulated the production of odoriferous flowers and the price of butter has gone up with the introduction of margarin. So, too, there are more weavers employed and they get higher wages than in the days when they smashed up the first weaving machines, and the same is true of printers and typesetting machines. The popular animosity displayed toward any new achievement of applied science is never justified, for it benefits not only the world as a whole but usually even those interests with which it seems at first to conflict.

The chemist is an economizer. It is his special business to hunt up waste products and make them useful. He was, for instance, worried over the waste of the cores and skins and scraps that were being thrown away when apples were put up. Apple pulp contains pectin, which is what makes jelly jell, and berries and fruits that are short of it will refuse to "jell." But using these for their flavor he adds apple pulp for pectin and glucose for smoothness and sugar for sweetness and, if necessary, synthetic dyes for color, he is able to put on the market a variety of jellies, jams and marmalades at very low price. The same principle applies here as in the case of all compounded food products. If they are made in cleanly fashion, contain no harmful ingredients and are truthfully labeled there is no reason for objecting to them. But if the manufacturer goes so far as to put strawberry seeds--or hayseed--into his artificial "strawberry jam" I think that might properly be called adulteration, for it is imitating the imperfections of nature, and man ought to be too proud to do that.

The old-fashioned open kettle molasses consisted mostly of glucose and other invert sugars together with such cane sugar as could not be crystallized out. But when the vacuum pan was introduced the molasses was impoverished of its sweetness and beet sugar does not yield any molasses. So we now have in its place the corn syrups consisting of about 85 per cent. of glucose and 15 per cent. of sugar flavored with maple or vanillin or whatever we like. It is encouraging to see the bill boards proclaiming the virtues of "Karo" syrup and "Mazola" oil when only a few years ago the products of our national cereal were without honor in their own country.

Many other products besides foods are made from corn starch. Dextrin serves in place of the old "gum arabic" for the mucilage of our envelopes and stamps. Another form of dextrin sold as "Kordex" is used to hold together the sand of the cores of castings. After the casting has been made the scorched core can be shaken out. Glucose is used in place of sugar as a filler for cheap soaps and for leather.

Altogether more than a hundred different commercial products are now made from corn, not counting cob pipes. Every year the factories of the United States work up over 50,000,000 bushels of corn into 800,000,000 pounds of corn syrup, 600,000,000 pounds of starch, 230,000,000 pounds of corn sugar, 625,000,000 pounds of gluten feed, 90,000,000 pounds of oil and 90,000,000 pounds of oil cake.

Two million bushels of cobs are wasted every year in the United States. Can't something be made out of them? This is the question that is agitating the chemists of the Carbohydrate Laboratory of the Department of Agriculture at Washington. They have found it possible to work up the corn cobs into glucose and xylose by heating with acid. But glucose can be more cheaply obtained from other starchy or woody materials and they cannot find a market for the xylose. This is a sort of a sugar but only about half as sweet as that from cane. Who can invent a use for it! More promising is the discovery by this laboratory that by digesting the cobs with hot water there can be extracted about 30 per cent. of a gum suitable for bill posting and labeling.

Since the starches and sugars belong to the same class of compounds as the celluloses they also can be acted upon by nitric acid with the production of explosives like guncotton. Nitro-sugar has not come into common use, but nitro-starch is found to be one of safest of the high explosives. On account of the danger of decomposition and spontaneous explosion from the presence of foreign substances the materials in explosives must be of the purest possible. It was formerly thought that tapioca must be imported from Java for making nitro-starch. But during the war when shipping was short, the War Department found that it could be made better and cheaper from our home-grown corn starch. When the war closed the United States was making 1,720,000 pounds of nitro-starch a month for loading hand grenades. So, too, the Post Office Department discovered that it could use mucilage made of corn dextrin as well as that which used to be made from tapioca. This is progress in the right direction. It would be well to divert some of the energetic efforts now devoted to the increase of commerce to the discovery of ways of reducing the need for commerce by the development of home products. There is no merit in simply hauling things around the world.

In the last chapter we saw how dextrose or glucose could be converted by fermentation into alcohol. Since corn starch, as we have seen, can be converted into dextrose, it can serve as a source of alcohol. This was, in fact, one of the earliest misuses to which corn was put, and before the war put a stop to it 34,000,000 bushels went into the making of whiskey in the United States every year, not counting the moonshiners' output. But even though we left off drinking whiskey the distillers could still thrive. Mars is more thirsty than Bacchus. The output of whiskey, denatured for industrial purposes, is more than three times what is was before the war, and the price has risen from 30 cents a gallon to 67 cents. This may make it profitable to utilize sugars, starches and cellulose that formerly were out of the question. According to the calculations of the Forest Products Laboratory of Madison it costs from 37 to 44 cents a gallon to make alcohol from corn, but it may be made from sawdust at a cost of from 14 to 20 cents. This is not "wood alcohol" (that is, methyl alcohol, CH_{4}O) such as is made by the destructive distillation of wood, but genuine "grain alcohol" (ethyl alcohol, C_{2}H_{6}O), such as is made by the fermentation of glucose or other sugar. The first step in the process is to digest the sawdust or chips with dilute sulfuric acid under heat and pressure. This converts the cellulose (wood fiber) in large part into glucose ("corn sugar") which may be extracted by hot water in a diffusion battery as in extracting the sugar from beet chips. This glucose solution may then be fermented by yeast and the resulting alcohol distilled off. The process is perfectly practicable but has yet to be proved profitable. But the sulfite liquors of the paper mills are being worked up successfully into industrial alcohol.

The rapidly approaching exhaustion of our oil fields which the war has accelerated leads us to look around to see what we can get to take the place of gasoline. One of the most promising of the suggested substitutes is alcohol. The United States is exceptionally rich in mineral oil, but some countries, for instance England, Germany, France and Australia, have little or none. The Australian Advisory Council of Science, called to consider the problem, recommends alcohol for stationary engines and motor cars. Alcohol has the disadvantage of being less volatile than gasoline so it is hard to start up the engine from the cold. But the lower volatility and ignition point of alcohol are an advantage in that it can be put under a pressure of 150 pounds to the square inch. A pound of gasoline contains fifty per cent. more potential energy than a pound of alcohol, but since the alcohol vapor can be put under twice the compression of the gasoline and requires only one-third the amount of air, the thermal efficiency of an alcohol engine may be fifty per cent. higher than that of a gasoline engine. Alcohol also has several other conveniences that can count in its favor. In the case of incomplete combustion the cylinders are less likely to be clogged with carbon and the escaping gases do not have the offensive odor of the gasoline smoke. Alcohol does not ignite so easily as gasoline and the fire is more readily put out, for water thrown upon blazing alcohol dilutes it and puts out the flame while gasoline floats on water and the fire is spread by it. It is possible to increase the inflammability of alcohol by mixing with it some hydrocarbon such as gasoline, benzene or acetylene. In the Taylor-White process the vapor from low-grade alcohol containing 17 per cent. water is passed over calcium carbide. This takes out the water and adds acetylene gas, making a suitable mixture for an internal combustion engine.

Alcohol can be made from anything of a starchy, sugary or woody nature, that is, from the main substance of all vegetation. If we start with wood (cellulose) we convert it first into sugar (glucose) and, of course, we could stop here and use it for food instead of carrying it on into alcohol. This provides one factor of our food, the carbohydrate, but by growing the yeast plants on glucose and feeding them with nitrates made from the air we can get the protein and fat. So it is quite possible to live on sawdust, although it would be too expensive a diet for anybody but a millionaire, and he would not enjoy it. Glucose has been made from formaldehyde and this in turn made from carbon, hydrogen and oxygen, so the synthetic production of food from the elements is not such an absurdity as it was thought when Berthelot suggested it half a century ago.

The first step in the making of alcohol is to change the starch over into sugar. This transformation is effected in the natural course of sprouting by which the insoluble starch stored up in the seed is converted into the soluble glucose for the sap of the growing plant. This malting process is that mainly made use of in the production of alcohol from grain. But there are other ways of effecting the change. It may be done by heating with acid as we have seen, or according to a method now being developed the final conversion may be accomplished by mold instead of malt. In applying this method, known as the amylo process, to corn, the meal is mixed with twice its weight of water, acidified with hydrochloric acid and steamed. The mash is then cooled down somewhat, diluted with sterilized water and innoculated with the mucor filaments. As the mash molds the starch is gradually changed over to glucose and if this is the product desired the process may be stopped at this point. But if alcohol is wanted yeast is added to ferment the sugar. By keeping it alkaline and treating with the proper bacteria a high yield of glycerin can be obtained.

In the fermentation process for making alcoholic liquors a little glycerin is produced as a by-product. Glycerin, otherwise called glycerol, is intermediate between sugar and alcohol. Its molecule contains three carbon atoms, while glucose has six and alcohol two. It is possible to increase the yield of glycerin if desired by varying the form of fermentation. This was desired most earnestly in Germany during the war, for the British blockade shut off the importation of the fats and oils from which the Germans extracted the glycerin for their nitroglycerin. Under pressure of this necessity they worked out a process of getting glycerin in quantity from sugar and, news of this being brought to this country by Dr. Alonzo Taylor, the United States Treasury Department set up a special laboratory to work out this problem. John R. Eoff and other chemists working in this laboratory succeeded in getting a yield of twenty per cent. of glycerin by fermenting black strap molasses or other syrup with California wine yeast. During the fermentation it is necessary to neutralize the acetic acid formed with sodium or calcium carbonate. It was estimated that glycerin could be made from waste sugars at about a quarter of its war-time cost, but it is doubtful whether the process would be profitable at normal prices.

We can, if we like, dispense with either yeast or bacteria in the production of glycerin. Glucose syrup suspended in oil under steam pressure with finely divided nickel as a catalyst and treated with nascent hydrogen will take up the hydrogen and be converted into glycerin. But the yield is poor and the process expensive.

Food serves substantially the same purpose in the body as fuel in the engine. It provides the energy for work. The carbohydrates, that is the sugars, starches and celluloses, can all be used as fuels and can all--even, as we have seen, the cellulose--be used as foods. The final products, water and carbon dioxide, are in both cases the same and necessarily therefore the amount of energy produced is the same in the body as in the engine. Corn is a good example of the equivalence of the two sources of energy. There are few better foods and no better fuels. I can remember the good old days in Kansas when we had corn to burn. It was both an economy and a luxury, for--at ten cents a bushel--it was cheaper than coal or wood and preferable to either at any price. The long yellow ears, each wrapped in its own kindling, could be handled without crocking the fingers. Each kernel as it crackled sent out a blazing jet of oil and the cobs left a fine bed of coals for the corn popper to be shaken over. Driftwood and the pyrotechnic fuel they make now by soaking sticks in strontium and copper salts cannot compare with the old-fashioned corn-fed fire in beauty and the power of evoking visions. Doubtless such luxury would be condemned as wicked nowadays, but those who have known the calorific value of corn would find it hard to abandon it altogether, and I fancy that the Western farmer's wife, when she has an extra batch of baking to do, will still steal a few ears from the crib.

XI

SOLIDIFIED SUNSHINE

All life and all that life accomplishes depend upon the supply of solar energy stored in the form of food. The chief sources of this vital energy are the fats and the sugars. The former contain two and a quarter times the potential energy of the latter. Both, when completely purified, consist of nothing but carbon, hydrogen and oxygen; elements that are to be found freely everywhere in air and water. So when the sunny southland exports fats and oils, starches and sugar, it is then sending away nothing material but what comes back to it in the next wind. What it is sending to the regions of more slanting sunshine is merely some of the surplus of the radiant energy it has received so abundantly, compacted for convenience into a portable and edible form.

In previous chapters I have dealt with some of the uses of cotton, its employment for cloth, for paper, for artificial fibers, for explosives, and for plastics. But I have ignored the thing that cotton is attached to and for which, in the economy of nature, the fibers are formed; that is, the seed. It is as though I had described the aeroplane and ignored the aviator whom it was designed to carry. But in this neglect I am but following the example of the human race, which for three thousand years used the fiber but made no use of the seed except to plant the next crop.

Just as mankind is now divided into the two great classes, the wheat-eaters and the rice-eaters, so the ancient world was divided into the wool-wearers and the cotton-wearers. The people of India wore cotton; the Europeans wore wool. When the Greeks under Alexander fought their way to the Far East they were surprised to find wool growing on trees. Later travelers returning from Cathay told of the same marvel and travelers who stayed at home and wrote about what they had not seen, like Sir John Maundeville, misunderstood these reports and elaborated a legend of a tree that bore live lambs as fruit. Here, for instance, is how a French poetical botanist, Delacroix, described it in 1791, as translated from his Latin verse:

Upon a stalk is fixed a living brute, A rooted plant bears quadruped for fruit; It has a fleece, nor does it want for eyes, And from its brows two wooly horns arise. The rude and simple country people say It is an animal that sleeps by day And wakes at night, though rooted to the ground, To feed on grass within its reach around.

But modern commerce broke down the barrier between East and West. A new cotton country, the best in the world, was discovered in America. Cotton invaded England and after a hard fight, with fists as well as finance, wool was beaten in its chief stronghold. Cotton became King and the wool-sack in the House of Lords lost its symbolic significance.

Still two-thirds of the cotton crop, the seed, was wasted and it is only within the last fifty years that methods of using it have been developed to any extent.

The cotton crop of the United States for 1917 amounted to about 11,000,000 bales of 500 pounds each. When the Great War broke out and no cotton could be exported to Germany and little to England the South was in despair, for cotton went down to five or six cents a pound. The national Government, regardless of states' rights, was called upon for aid and everybody was besought to "buy a bale." Those who responded to this patriotic appeal were well rewarded, for cotton rose as the war went on and sold at twenty-nine cents a pound.

[ILLUSTRATION: PRODUCTS AND USES OF COTTONSEED]

But the chemist has added some $150,000,000 a year to the value of the crop by discovering ways of utilizing the cottonseed that used to be thrown away or burned as fuel. The genealogical table of the progeny of the cottonseed herewith printed will give some idea of their variety. If you will examine a cottonseed you will see first that there is a fine fuzz of cotton fiber sticking to it. These linters can be removed by machinery and used for any purpose where length of fiber is not essential. For instance, they may be nitrated as described in previous articles and used for making smokeless powder or celluloid.

On cutting open the seed you will observe that it consists of an oily, mealy kernel encased in a thin brown hull. The hulls, amounting to 700 or 900 pounds in a ton of seed, were formerly burned. Now, however, they bring from $4 to $10 a ton because they can be ground up into cattle-feed or paper stock or used as fertilizer.

The kernel of the cottonseed on being pressed yields a yellow oil and leaves a mealy cake. This last, mixed with the hulls, makes a good fodder for fattening cattle. Also, adding twenty-five per cent. of the refined cottonseed meal to our war bread made it more nutritious and no less palatable. Cottonseed meal contains about forty per cent. of protein and is therefore a highly concentrated and very valuable feeding stuff. Before the war we were exporting nearly half a million tons of cottonseed meal to Europe, chiefly to Germany and Denmark, where it is used for dairy cows. The British yeoman, his country's pride, has not yet been won over to the use of any such newfangled fodder and consequently the British manufacturer could not compete with his continental rivals in the seed-crushing business, for he could not dispose of his meal-cake by-product as did they.

[Illustration: Photo by Press Illustrating Service

Cottonseed Oil As It Is Squeezed From The Seed By The Presses]

[Illustration: Photo by Press Illustrating Service

Cottonseed Oil As It Comes From The Compressors Flowing Out Of The Faucets

When cold it is firm and white like lard]

Let us now turn to the most valuable of the cottonseed products, the oil. The seed contains about twenty per cent. of oil, most of which can be squeezed out of the hot seeds by hydraulic pressure. It comes out as a red liquid of a disagreeable odor. This is decolorized, deodorized and otherwise purified in various ways: by treatment with alkalies or acids, by blowing air and steam through it, by shaking up with fuller's earth, by settling and filtering. The refined product is a yellow oil, suitable for table use. Formerly, on account of the popular prejudice against any novel food products, it used to masquerade as olive oil. Now, however, it boldly competes with its ancient rival in the lands of the olive tree and America ships some 700,000 barrels of cottonseed oil a year to the Mediterranean. The Turkish Government tried to check the spread of cottonseed oil by calling it an adulterant and prohibiting its mixture with olive oil. The result was that the sale of Turkish olive oil fell off because people found its flavor too strong when undiluted. Italy imports cottonseed oil and exports her olive oil. Denmark imports cottonseed meal and margarine and exports her butter.

Northern nations are accustomed to hard fats and do not take to oils for cooking or table use as do the southerners. Butter and lard are preferred to olive oil and ghee. But this does not rule out cottonseed. It can be combined with the hard fats of animal or vegetable origin in margarine or it may itself be hardened by hydrogen.

To understand this interesting reaction which is profoundly affecting international relations it will be necessary to dip into the chemistry of the subject. Here are the symbols of the chief ingredients of the fats and oils. Please look at them.

Linoleic acid C_{18}H_{32}O_{2} Oleic acid C_{18}H_{34}O_{2} Stearic acid C_{18}H_{36}O_{2}

Don't skip these because you have not studied chemistry. That's why I am giving them to you. If you had studied chemistry you would know them without my telling. Just examine them and you will discover the secret. You will see that all three are composed of the same elements, carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen. Notice next the number of atoms in each element as indicated by the little low figures on the right of each letter. You observe that all three contain the same number of atoms of carbon and oxygen but differ in the amount of hydrogen. This trifling difference in composition makes a great difference in behavior. The less the hydrogen the lower the melting point. Or to say the same thing in other words, fatty substances low in hydrogen are apt to be liquids and those with a full complement of hydrogen atoms are apt to be solids at the ordinary temperature of the air. It is common to call the former "oils" and the latter "fats," but that implies too great a dissimilarity, for the distinction depends on whether we are living in the tropics or the arctic. It is better, therefore, to lump them all together and call them "soft fats" and "hard fats," respectively.

Fats of the third order, the stearic group, are called "saturated" because they have taken up all the hydrogen they can hold. Fats of the other two groups are called "unsaturated." The first, which have the least hydrogen, are the most eager for more. If hydrogen is not handy they will take up other things, for instance oxygen. Linseed oil, which consists largely, as the name implies, of linoleic acid, will absorb oxygen on exposure to the air and become hard. That is why it is used in painting. Such oils are called "drying" oils, although the hardening process is not really drying, since they contain no water, but is oxidation. The "semi-drying oils," those that will harden somewhat on exposure to the air, include the oils of cottonseed, corn, sesame, soy bean and castor bean. Olive oil and peanut oil are "non-drying" and contain oleic compounds (olein). The hard fats, such as stearin, palmitin and margarin, are mostly of animal origin, tallow and lard, though coconut and palm oil contain a large proportion of such saturated compounds.

Though the chemist talks of the fatty "acids," nobody else would call them so because they are not sour. But they do behave like the acids in forming salts with bases. The alkali salts of the fatty acids are known to us as soaps. In the natural fats they exist not as free acids but as salts of an organic base, glycerin, as I explained in a previous chapter. The natural fats and oils consist of complex mixtures of the glycerin compounds of these acids (known as olein, stearin, etc.), as well as various others of a similar sort. If you will set a bottle of salad oil in the ice-box you will see it separate into two parts. The white, crystalline solid that separates out is largely stearin. The part that remains liquid is largely olein. You might separate them by filtering it cold and if then you tried to sell the two products you would find that the hard fat would bring a higher price than the oil, either for food or soap. If you tried to keep them you would find that the hard fat kept neutral and "sweet" longer than the other. You may remember that the perfumes (as well as their odorous opposites) were mostly unsaturated compounds. So we find that it is the free and unsaturated fatty acids that cause butter and oil to become rank and rancid.

Obviously, then, we could make money if we could turn soft, unsaturated fats like olein into hard, saturated fats like stearin. Referring to the symbols we see that all that is needed to effect the change is to get the former to unite with hydrogen. This requires a little coaxing. The coaxer is called a catalyst. A catalyst, as I have previously explained, is a substance that by its mere presence causes the union of two other substances that might otherwise remain separate. For that reason the catalyst is referred to as "a chemical parson." Finely divided metals have a strong catalytic action. Platinum sponge is excellent but too expensive. So in this case nickel is used. A nickel salt mixed with charcoal or pumice is reduced to the metallic state by heating in a current of hydrogen. Then it is dropped into the tank of oil and hydrogen gas is blown through. The hydrogen may be obtained by splitting water into its two components, hydrogen and oxygen, by means of the electrical current, or by passing steam over spongy iron which takes out the oxygen. The stream of hydrogen blown through the hot oil converts the linoleic acid to oleic and then the oleic into stearic. If you figured up the weights from the symbols given above you would find that it takes about one pound of hydrogen to convert a hundred pounds of olein to stearin and the cost is only about one cent a pound. The nickel is unchanged and is easily separated. A trace of nickel may remain in the product, but as it is very much less than the amount dissolved when food is cooked in nickel-plated vessels it cannot be regarded as harmful.

Even more unsaturated fats may be hydrogenated. Fish oil has hitherto been almost unusable because of its powerful and persistent odor. This is chiefly due to a fatty acid which properly bears the uneuphonious name of clupanodonic acid and has the composition of C_{18}H_{28}O_{2}. By comparing this with the symbol of the odorless stearic acid, C_{18}H_{36}O_{2}, you will see that all the rank fish oil lacks to make it respectable is eight hydrogen atoms. A Japanese chemist, Tsujimoto, has discovered how to add them and now the reformed fish oil under the names of "talgol" and "candelite" serves for lubricant and even enters higher circles as a soap or food.

This process of hardening fats by hydrogenation resulted from the experiments of a French chemist, Professor Sabatier of Toulouse, in the last years of the last century, but, as in many other cases, the Germans were the first to take it up and profit by it. Before the war the copra or coconut oil from the British Asiatic colonies of India, Ceylon and Malaya went to Germany at the rate of $15,000,000 a year. The palm kernels grown in British West Africa were shipped, not to Liverpool, but to Hamburg, $19,000,000 worth annually. Here the oil was pressed out and used for margarin and the residual cake used for feeding cows produced butter or for feeding hogs produced lard. Half of the copra raised in the British possessions was sent to Germany and half of the oil from it was resold to the British margarin candle and soap makers at a handsome profit. The British chemists were not blind to this, but they could do nothing, first because the English politician was wedded to free trade, second, because the English farmer would not use oil cake for his stock. France was in a similar situation. Marseilles produced 15,500,000 gallons of oil from peanuts grown largely in the French African colonies--but shipped the oil-cake on to Hamburg. Meanwhile the Germans, in pursuit of their policy of attaining economic independence, were striving to develop their own tropical territory. The subjects of King George who because they had the misfortune to live in India were excluded from the British South African dominions or mistreated when they did come, were invited to come to German East Africa and set to raising peanuts in rivalry to French Senegal and British Coromandel. Before the war Germany got half of the Egyptian cottonseed and half of the Philippine copra. That is one of the reasons why German warships tried to check Dewey at Manila in 1898 and German troops tried to conquer Egypt in 1915.

But the tide of war set the other way and the German plantations of palmnuts and peanuts in Africa have come into British possession and now the British Government is starting an educational campaign to teach their farmers to feed oil cake like the Germans and their people to eat peanuts like the Americans.

The Germans shut off from the tropical fats supply were hard up for food and for soap, for lubricants and for munitions. Every person was given a fat card that reduced his weekly allowance to the minimum. Millers were required to remove the germs from their cereals and deliver them to the war department. Children were set to gathering horse-chestnuts, elderberries, linden-balls, grape seeds, cherry stones and sunflower heads, for these contain from six to twenty per cent. of oil. Even the blue-bottle fly--hitherto an idle creature for whom Beelzebub found mischief--was conscripted into the national service and set to laying eggs by the billion on fish refuse. Within a few days there is a crop of larvae which, to quote the "Chemische Zentralblatt," yields forty-five grams per kilogram of a yellow oil. This product, we should hope, is used for axle-grease and nitroglycerin, although properly purified it would be as nutritious as any other--to one who has no imagination. Driven to such straits Germany would have given a good deal for one of those tropical islands that we are so careless about.

It might have been supposed that since the United States possessed the best land in the world for the production of cottonseed, coconuts, peanuts, and corn that it would have led all other countries in the utilization of vegetable oils for food. That this country has not so used its advantage is due to the fact that the new products have not merely had to overcome popular conservatism, ignorance and prejudice--hard things to fight in any case--but have been deliberately checked and hampered by the state and national governments in defense of vested interests. The farmer vote is a power that no politician likes to defy and the dairy business in every state was thoroughly organized. In New York the oleomargarin industry that in 1879 was turning out products valued at more than $5,000,000 a year was completely crushed out by state legislation.[2] The output of the United States, which in 1902 had risen to 126,000,000 pounds, was cut down to 43,000,000 pounds in 1909 by federal legislation. According to the disingenuous custom of American lawmakers the Act of 1902 was passed through Congress as a "revenue measure," although it meant a loss to the Government of more than three million dollars a year over what might be produced by a straight two cents a pound tax. A wholesale dealer in oleomargarin was made to pay a higher license than a wholesale liquor dealer. The federal law put a tax of ten cents a pound on yellow oleomargarin and a quarter of a cent a pound on the uncolored. But people--doubtless from pure prejudice--prefer a yellow spread for their bread, so the economical housewife has to work over her oleomargarin with the annatto which is given to her when she buys a package or, if the law prohibits this, which she is permitted to steal from an open box on the grocer's counter. A plausible pretext for such legislation is afforded by the fact that the butter substitutes are so much like butter that they cannot be easily distinguished from it unless the use of annatto is permitted to butter and prohibited to its competitors. Fradulent sales of substitutes of any kind ought to be prevented, but the recent pure food legislation in America has shown that it is possible to secure truthful labeling without resorting to such drastic measures. In Europe the laws against substitution were very strict, but not devised to restrict the industry. Consequently the margarin output of Germany doubled in the five years preceding the war and the output of England tripled. In Denmark the consumption of margarin rose from 8.8 pounds per capita in 1890 to 32.6 pounds in 1912. Yet the butter business, Denmark's pride, was not injured, and Germany and England imported more butter than ever before. Now that the price of butter in America has gone over the seventy-five cent mark Congress may conclude that it no longer needs to be protected against competition.

The "compound lards" or "lard compounds," consisting usually of cottonseed oil and oleo-stearin, although the latter may now be replaced by hardened oil, met with the same popular prejudice and attempted legislative interference, but succeeded more easily in coming into common use under such names as "Cottosuet," "Kream Krisp," "Kuxit," "Korno," "Cottolene" and "Crisco."

Oleomargarin, now generally abbreviated to margarin, originated, like many other inventions, in military necessity. The French Government in 1869 offered a prize for a butter substitute for the army that should be cheaper and better than butter in that it did not spoil so easily. The prize was won by a French chemist, Mége-Mouries, who found that by chilling beef fat the solid stearin could be separated from an oil (oleo) which was the substantially same as that in milk and hence in butter. Neutral lard acts the same.

This discovery of how to separate the hard and soft fats was followed by improved methods for purifying them and later by the process for converting the soft into the hard fats by hydrogenation. The net result was to put into the hands of the chemist the ability to draw his materials at will from any land and from the vegetable and animal kingdoms and to combine them as he will to make new fat foods for every use; hard for summer, soft for winter; solid for the northerners and liquid for the southerners; white, yellow or any other color, and flavored to suit the taste. The Hindu can eat no fat from the sacred cow; the Mohammedan and the Jew can eat no fat from the abhorred pig; the vegetarian will touch neither; other people will take both. No matter, all can be accommodated.

All the fats and oils, though they consist of scores of different compounds, have practically the same food value when freed from the extraneous matter that gives them their characteristic flavors. They are all practically tasteless and colorless. The various vegetable and animal oils and fats have about the same digestibility, 98 per cent.,[3] and are all ordinarily completely utilized in the body, supplying it with two and a quarter times as much energy as any other food.

It does not follow, however, that there is no difference in the products. The margarin men accuse butter of harboring tuberculosis germs from which their product, because it has been heated or is made from vegetable fats, is free. The butter men retort that margarin is lacking in vitamines, those mysterious substances which in minute amounts are necessary for life and especially for growth. Both the claim and the objection lose a large part of their force where the margarin, as is customarily the case, is mixed with butter or churned up with milk to give it the familiar flavor. But the difficulty can be easily overcome. The milk used for either butter or margarin should be free or freed from disease germs. If margarin is altogether substituted for butter, the necessary vitamines may be sufficiently provided by milk, eggs and greens.

Owing to these new processes all the fatty substances of all lands have been brought into competition with each other. In such a contest the vegetable is likely to beat the animal and the southern to win over the northern zones. In Europe before the war the proportion of the various ingredients used to make butter substitutes was as follows:

AVERAGE COMPOSITION OF EUROPEAN MARGARIN

Per Cent. Animal hard fats 25 Vegetable hard fats 35 Copra 29 Palm-kernel 6 Vegetable soft fats 26 Cottonseed 13 Peanut 6 Sesame 6 Soya-bean 1 Water, milk, salt 14 ___ 100

This is not the composition of any particular brand but the average of them all. The use of a certain amount of the oil of the sesame seed is required by the laws of Germany and Denmark because it can be easily detected by a chemical color test and so serves to prevent the margarin containing it from being sold as butter. "Open sesame!" is the password to these markets. Remembering that margarin originally was made up entirely of animal fats, soft and hard, we can see from the above figures how rapidly they are being displaced by the vegetable fats. The cottonseed and peanut oils have replaced the original oleo oil and the tropical oils from the coconut (copra) and African palm are crowding out the animal hard fats. Since now we can harden at will any of the vegetable oils it is possible to get along altogether without animal fats. Such vegetable margarins were originally prepared for sale in India, but proved unexpectedly popular in Europe, and are now being introduced into America. They are sold under various trade names suggesting their origin, such as "palmira," "palmona," "milkonut," "cocose," "coconut oleomargarin" and "nucoa nut margarin." The last named is stated to be made of coconut oil (for the hard fat) and peanut oil (for the soft fat), churned up with a culture of pasteurized milk (to impart the butter flavor). The law requires such a product to be branded "oleomargarine" although it is not. Such cases of compulsory mislabeling are not rare. You remember the "Pigs is Pigs" story.

Peanut butter has won its way into the American menu without any camouflage whatever, and as a salad oil it is almost equally frank about its lowly origin. This nut, which grows on a vine instead of a tree, and is dug from the ground like potatoes instead of being picked with a pole, goes by various names according to locality, peanuts, ground-nuts, monkey-nuts, arachides and goobers. As it takes the place of cotton oil in some of its products so it takes its place in the fields and oilmills of Texas left vacant by the bollweevil. The once despised peanut added some $56,000,000 to the wealth of the South in 1916. The peanut is rich in the richest of foods, some 50 per cent. of oil and 30 per cent. of protein. The latter can be worked up into meat substitutes that will make the vegetarian cease to envy his omnivorous neighbor. Thanks largely to the chemist who has opened these new fields of usefulness, the peanut-raiser got $1.25 a bushel in 1917 instead of the 30 cents that he got four years before.

It would be impossible to enumerate all the available sources of vegetable oils, for all seeds and nuts contain more or less fatty matter and as we become more economical we shall utilize of what we now throw away. The germ of the corn kernel, once discarded in the manufacture of starch, now yields a popular table oil. From tomato seeds, one of the waste products of the canning factory, can be extracted 22 per cent. of an edible oil. Oats contain 7 per cent. of oil. From rape seed the Japanese get 20,000 tons of oil a year. To the sources previously mentioned may be added pumpkin seeds, poppy seeds, raspberry seeds, tobacco seeds, cockleburs, hazelnuts, walnuts, beechnuts and acorns.

The oil-bearing seeds of the tropics are innumerable and will become increasingly essential to the inhabitants of northern lands. It was the realization of this that brought on the struggle of the great powers for the possession of tropical territory which, for years before, they did not think worth while raising a flag over. No country in the future can consider itself safe unless it has secure access to such sources. We had a sharp lesson in this during the war. Palm oil, it seems, is necessary for the manufacture of tinplate, an industry that was built up in the United States by the McKinley tariff. The British possessions in West Africa were the chief source of palm oil and the Germans had the handling of it. During the war the British Government assumed control of the palm oil products of the British and German colonies and prohibited their export to other countries than England. Americans protested and beseeched, but in vain. The British held, quite correctly, that they needed all the oil they could get for food and lubrication and nitroglycerin. But the British also needed canned meat from America for their soldiers and when it was at length brought to their attention that the packers could not ship meat unless they had cans and that cans could not be made without tin and that tin could not be made without palm oil the British Government consented to let us buy a little of their palm oil. The lesson is that of Voltaire's story, "Candide," "Let us cultivate our own garden"--and plant a few palm trees in it--also rubber trees, but that is another story.

The international struggle for oil led to the partition of the Pacific as the struggle for rubber led to the partition of Africa. Theodor Weber, as Stevenson says, "harried the Samoans" to get copra much as King Leopold of Belgium harried the Congoese to get caoutchouc. It was Weber who first fully realized that the South Sea islands, formerly given over to cannibals, pirates and missionaries, might be made immensely valuable through the cultivation of the coconut palms. When the ripe coconut is split open and exposed to the sun the meat dries up and shrivels and in this form, called "copra," it can be cut out and shipped to the factory where the oil is extracted and refined. Weber while German Consul in Samoa was also manager of what was locally known as "the long-handled concern" (_Deutsche Handels und Plantagen Gesellschaft der Südsee Inseln zu Hamburg_), a pioneer commercial and semi-official corporation that played a part in the Pacific somewhat like the British Hudson Bay Company in Canada or East India Company in Hindustan. Through the agency of this corporation on the start Germany acquired a virtual monopoly of the transportation and refining of coconut oil and would have become the dominant power in the Pacific if she had not been checked by force of arms. In Apia Bay in 1889 and again in Manila Bay in 1898 an American fleet faced a German fleet ready for

## action while a British warship lay between. So we rescued the

Philippines and Samoa from German rule and in 1914 German power was eliminated from the Pacific. During the ten years before the war, the production of copra in the German islands more than doubled and this was only the beginning of the business. Now these islands have been divided up among Australia, New Zealand and Japan, and these countries are planning to take care of the copra.

But although we get no extension of territory from the war we still have the Philippines and some of the Samoan Islands, and these are capable of great development. From her share of the Samoan Islands Germany got a million dollars' worth of copra and we might get more from ours. The Philippines now lead the world in the production of copra, but Java is a close second and Ceylon not far behind. If we do not look out we will be beaten both by the Dutch and the British, for they are undertaking the cultivation of the coconut on a larger scale and in a more systematic way. According to an official bulletin of the Philippine Government a coconut plantation should bring in "dividends ranging from 10 to 75 per cent. from the tenth to the hundredth year." And this being printed in 1913 figured the price of copra at 3-1/2 cents, whereas it brought 4-1/2 cents in 1918, so the prospect is still more encouraging. The copra is half fat and can be cheaply shipped to America, where it can be crushed in the southern oilmills when they are not busy on cottonseed or peanuts. But even this cost of transportation can be reduced by extracting the oil in the islands and shipping it in bulk like petroleum in tank steamers.

In the year ending June, 1918, the United States imported from the Philippines 155,000,000 pounds of coconut oil worth $18,000,000 and 220,000,000 pounds of copra worth $10,000,000. But this was about half our total importations; the rest of it we had to get from foreign countries. Panama palms may give us a little relief from this dependence on foreign sources. In 1917 we imported 19,000,000 whole coconuts from Panama valued at $700,000.

[Illustration: SPLITTING COCONUTS ON THE ISLAND OF TAHITI

After drying in the sun the meat is picked and the oil extracted for making coconut butter]

[Illustration: From "America's Munitions"

THE ELECTRIC CURRENT PASSING THROUGH SALT WATER IN THESE CELLS DECOMPOSES THE SALT INTO CAUSTIC SODA AND CHLORINE GAS

There were eight rooms like this in the Edgewood plant, capable of producing 200,000 pounds of chlorine a day]

A new form of fat that has rapidly come into our market is the oil of the soya or soy bean. In 1918 we imported over 300,000,000 pounds of soy-bean oil, mostly from Manchuria. The oil is used in manufacture of substitutes for butter, lard, cheese, milk and cream, as well as for soap and paint. The soy-bean can be raised in the United States wherever corn can be grown and provides provender for man and beast. The soy meal left after the extraction of the oil makes a good cattle food and the fermented juice affords the shoya sauce made familiar to us through the popularity of the chop-suey restaurants.

As meat and dairy products become scarcer and dearer we shall become increasingly dependent upon the vegetable fats. We should therefore devise means of saving what we now throw away, raise as much as we can under our own flag, keep open avenues for our foreign supply and encourage our cooks to make use of the new products invented by our chemists.

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