paratively few sovereigns
brought in by the general public are weighed in ordinary scales by the
tellers."

The Bank water-mark--or, more properly, the wire-mark--is obtained by
twisting wires to the desired form or design, and sticking them on the
face of the mould; therefore the design is above the level face of the
mould by the thickness of the wires it is composed of. Hence the pulp,
in settling down on the mould, must of necessity be thinner on the wire
design than on the other parts of the sheet. When the water has run off
through the sieve-like face of the mould, the new-born sheet of paper is
"couched," the mould gently but firmly pressed upon a blanket, to which
the spongy sheet clings. Sizing is a subsequent process, and, when dry,
the water-mark is plainly discernible, being, of course, transparent
where the substance is thinnest. The paper is then dried, and made up
into reams of 500 sheets each, ready for press. The water-mark in the
notes of the Bank of England is secured to that establishment by virtue
of a special Act of Parliament. It is scarcely necessary to inform the
reader that imitation of anything whatever connected with a bank-note is
an extremely unsafe experiment.

This curious sort of paper is unique. There is nothing like it in the
world of sheets. Tested by the touch, it gives out a crisp, crackling,
sharp music, which resounds from no other quires. To the eye it shows a
colour belonging neither to blue-wove, nor yellow-wove, nor cream-laid,
but a white, like no other white, either in paper and pulp. The three
rough fringy edges are called the "deckelled" edges, being the natural
boundary of the pulp when first moulded; the fourth is left smooth by
the knife, which eventually cuts the two notes in twain. This paper is
so thin that, when printed, there is much difficulty in making erasures;
yet it is so strong, that "a water-leaf" (a leaf before the application
of size) will support thirty-six pounds, and, with the addition of one
grain of size, will hold half a hundredweight, without tearing. Yet the
quantity of fibre of which it consists is no more than eighteen grains
and a half.

Dividend day at the Bank has been admirably described, in the wittiest
manner, by a modern essayist in _Household Words_:--"Another public
creditor," says the writer, "appears in the shape of a drover, with a
goad, who has run in to present his claim during his short visit from
Essex. Near him are a lime-colou