waste too much time here. In this next
room you will see how the dyeing is done. We use centrifugal machines,
and beside those we have these others to keep the wool spread and
turned. With all our care not to snarl or curl it, it will get matted
and must therefore be picked apart again. So we pass it through these
revolving drums which, you see, have sets of spikes on them; as the
spikes on the different drums turn they catch in the wool and pick it
all apart so it is again light and fluffy as it was before."

"Doesn't so much washing and dyeing take out all the yolk, and make the
wool very dry?" inquired Thornton.

The young man conducting them seemed pleased at the question.

"Yes, it does! That is just the trouble. Therefore we are forced to set
about getting some oil back into it; otherwise it would be so harsh and
stiff that we could do nothing with it. So we put the thin layers of
wool into these machines and carry them along to a spraying apparatus
which sprays them evenly with oil. We use olive oil, but some other
manufacturers prefer lard oil or oleine."

"How funny to have to put oil back into the wool after you have just
washed it out!" Donald remarked.

"It is funny, isn't it?" nodded the bookkeeper. "Now on this side of the
room they are blending the fleeces. Sometimes we blend different
qualities of wool to get a desired effect, or sometimes we blend the
wool with cotton or a different fiber. We take a thin layer of wool,
then put another layer of a different kind over it. We then pick it all
up together until we get a uniform mixture."

"It is a surprise to me that the wool has to go through so much red tape
before it comes to spinning," Thornton said.

"It is a long process," responded their guide. "I remember when I first
saw it, it seemed endless. Now I think little of it."

"We get used to everything in time, I suppose," Thornton answered; then
he added whimsically: "Still, I don't think I should ever get used to
riding in an automobile."

A hearty laugh came from behind them, and turning they saw Mr. Clark and
Mr. Munger, the manager.

"I came to hunt you up," said Mr. Clark. "I have finished my interview
with Mr. Bailey, and it seemed to me that by this time you must have
finished spinning your next-winter's overcoat, Don."

"But I haven't, father," retorted Donald, smiling into his father's
face. "I have not even begun to make the cloth at all."

"The yarn is not spun yet, sir," put