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No fewer than nineteen patents were granted in the United States for "improvements in devulcanizing India rubber," or "restoring waste vulcanized rubber," beginning in 1855, or eleven years after the date of Goodyear's patent for the vulcanization process.
Charles Goodyear's work, therefore, is a permanent addition to the resources of man. The latest posterity will be indebted to him. Is there anything in America more peculiar to America, or more curious in itself, than one of our "fashionable" Protestant churches, such as we see in New York, on the Fifth Avenue and in the adjacent streets?
Goodyear's boy had his head broke that day in meeting, on account of which a woman said she doubted not the wrath of God was upon us." And well might she think so, for divers other unseemly incidents which occurred in the meeting-house at the same time were narrated in Court, examined into, and punished.
The office of a Review is not usually provided with the means of subjecting literature to such critical tests as lye, vitriol, boilers, and hot ovens. But we have seen enough elsewhere of the ordeals to which India-rubber is now subjected to believe Mr. Goodyear's statements.
This order was given wide publicity and it aroused the interest of manufacturers throughout the country. But by the time the goods were ready for delivery the first bags made had rotted from their handles. Only the surface of the rubber had been "cured." This failure was the last straw, as far as Goodyear's friends were concerned.
Goodyear's bungalow for a dinner which she dreaded. Three weeks of perplexity had bred in her a shrinking from people. She had found excuse to wander away alone. That lazy spring of the North woods, so like to early fall in other climates, had given her at first the healing of spirit which she needed.
All who saw them pronounced them a perfect success; but, alas! in a single month they began to soften and ferment, and finally became useless. Poor Goodyear's hopes were dashed to the ground. It was found that the aqua fortis merely "cured" the surface of the material, and that only very thin cloth made in this way was durable.
Tiffany, now that her protegé no longer needed watching, had returned to her tea things. "Eleanor," she called. "Will you run into the house and get that box of chocolate wafers that's over the ice chest?" "Let me carry 'em for you, Miss Gray," put in Chester, breaking through a college reminiscence of Goodyear's. Eleanor never flicked an eyelash as she announced: "I should be very glad."
Goodyear's attention had for some time been attracted to the wonderful apparent success of the India-rubber companies of the country, and he was hopeful that his improvement in the inflating apparatus of the life-preserver would bring him the means of partially extricating himself from his difficulties.
"Neither had I." She broke in to anticipate his thought. Each was lying a little; and both knew it. She rushed to commonplaces. "Uncle Edward and I are at Mrs. Goodyear's bungalow over Sunday. It's our last expedition out of town before we go down to the ranch." "Well, I must have had a hunch! I'm at the Masters ranch over Sunday. I got a freak idea to take a walk alone. It sure was a hunch!"
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