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"Nowhere," said his mamma, "I should think. It burns to nothing." "Oh, dear, no!" said Harry, "everything everybody goes somewhere." "Eh! rather an important consideration, that," Mr. Bagges moralized. "You can see it goes into smoke, which makes soot, for one thing," pursued Harry.
Now this gas that is eight-ninths of water is the gas called oxygen that I mentioned just now. This is a very curious gas. It won't burn in air at all itself, like gas from a lamp, but it has a wonderful power of making things burn that are lighted and put into it. If you fill a jar with it " "How do you manage that?" Mr. Bagges inquired.
"Because they are pieces of solid matter," answered Harry. "To make a flame shine, there must always be some solid or at least liquid-matter in it." "Very good." said Mr. Bagges, "solid stuff necessary to brightness." "Some gases and other things," resumed Harry, "that burn with a flame you can hardly see, burn splendidly when something solid is put into them.
Bagges, "we have got our candle burning. What do you see?" "Let me put on my spectacles," answered the uncle. "Look down on the top of the candle around the wick. See, it is a little cup full of melted wax. The heat of the flame has melted the wax just round the wick. The cold air keeps the outside of it hard, so as to make the rim of it.
But as there is oxygen in the air, and as oxygen makes things burn at such a rate, perhaps you wonder why air does not make things burn as fast as oxygen. The reason is, that there is something else in the air that mixes with the oxygen and weakens it." "Makes a sort of gaseous grog of it, eh?" said Mr. Bagges. "But how is that proved?"
Certain results of his travel were pleasing to his sovereign, however. For he was the first person to import to England "gloves, sweete bagges, a perfumed leather Jerkin, and other pleasant things."
The gas keeps going into the flame to burn, and when the candle burns properly, none of it ever passes out through the flame; and none of the air ever gets in through the flame to the gas. The greatest heat of the candle is in this skin, or peel, or case of flame." "Case of flame!" repeated Mr. Bagges. "Live and learn. I should have thought a candle-flame was as thick as my poor old noddle."
His bookes and his bagges, many oon, He leith biform hymn on his countyng-bord. Ful riche was his tresor and his hord, For which ful faste his countour dore he shette; And eek he nolde that no man sholde hymn lette Of his accountes, for the meene tyme; And thus he sit til it was passed pry me.
"Now, you sir," said Uncle Bagges, "come you here to me, and tell me what you have to say about this chemical, eh? or comical: which? this comical chemical history of a candle." "He'll bore you, Bagges," said Mr. Wilkinson. "Harry, don't be troublesome to your uncle." "Troublesome! Oh, not at all. He amuses me. I like to hear him.
Carbonic acid gas is what stupefies the dogs in the Grotto del Cane. Well, but how is carbonic acid gas made by the candle?" "I hope with your candle you'll throw some light upon the subject," said Uncle Bagges. "I hope so," answered Harry. "Recollect it is the burning of the smoke, or soot, or carbon of the candle, that makes the candle-flame bright. Also that the candle won't burn without air.
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