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April 13, 1883. | 531 THE PHOTOGRAPHIC NEWS. My own object in first taking to photography, some few summers ago, was the production of transparencies for the lantern ; but, of course, this soon grew into silver printing on paper, and I learnt that there is no more charming occupa tion for leisure hours and in summer holidays than the produc tion of small negatives (74 by 41), which are easily reduced in the camera to lantern-size transparencies, and which, if sufficiently perfect to make it worth while, can be enlarged in carbon up to 24 by 18, and form handsome additions to the decoration of vacant wall spaces in the rooms at home. I may say that this latter process I always get done by a leading firm for me, not having the necessary time to spare for that branch of the art. Transparencies require much care and experience to turn out Well. An ordinary transpareny is not more difficult than an ordinary silver print on paper ; and in printing half-a-dozen or half-a-hundred, it is probable that the whole batch would, in the hands of an experienced operator, turn out fairly even and good ; but with lantern transparencies it is a little different, for the least clouding in the lights, or too great heaviness in the shadows, renders them at once unsuitable for throwing upon the screen, so great is the loss of light. This applies more especially to those slides intended for lanterns in which mineral oils are burnt. Where the lime or oxy-hydrogen light is used, there may be naturally a little more margin allowable for waste of light owing to the greater brilliancy of the illumination. A good slide, therefore, should possess full detail, and yet be perfectly clear. A good negative—perfect, if possible—is there fore the first requirement to begin with ; the illumination of it should not be too brilliant, and if the sun is shining, and the light highly actinic, it is better to place finely-ground glass or some tissue paper over it. Then, when a fair exposure has been given—not too full—I usually stop development. As soon as all detail is well out, fix, and then fill up to the requisite density with ordinary silver intensification. My transparencies have always been made by the old wet collodion process, and if the above points are attended to, very pleasing and satisfactory results may be attained. Apropos of the vexed subject of intensification for gelatine plates, I have tried, and with a certain amount of success, the mercurial plan, but it seems to me that the weak point in this, quite apart from possible instability, upon which I am not pre pared to express an opinion, is the difficulty of arresting the process at a given point of colour or intensity. It seems all or none. Now I have found that an intensifier composed of the old well-known 15-grain iron developer, with 15 grains of citric acid added, and used with a solution of silver 10 grains, and acetic acid 10 drops to the ounce, dropped into it, quant, suff., builds up intensity, as it were, in the most gradual, clean, and satisfactory manner. . Reverting now for a moment to the secondary subject of this paper, we sometimes hear it said that there is not much fishing in the neighbourhood of Bristol. Now if there is not much, I venture to say that there is at least consideaable variety. The Avon is well supplied with coarse fish, and in spinning or trolling for pike the angler may occasionally be rewarded by a three- pound trout, or he may idle away a summer’s day in filling his creel with roach. Chub are not unknown by any means, and the waters of the Froom and the Midford brook contain trout and perch, and, I believe, roach and dace. With regard to the former river, the Froom—which, by-the- bye, is not to be confounded with the Froom which runs through Stapleton and joins the Avon at Bristol, but refers to the other Froom which flows into the Avon at Threshford near Bath—has been for some years in the hands of an association having its head-quarters in Bristol, and designated “ The Avon and Tributaries Angling Association.” This Association placed a large quantity of trout fry in the Froom water some years back, and had it in contemplation to stock the water thoroughly and well. Just, however, as the good effects of their efforts were becoming apparent, difficulties arose with the owners of some of the riverside properties, and so much of the water was taken from the committee as to render it undesirable to continue the good work. It is much to be regretted that the proprietors referred to could not be induced to look upon the expenditure of the associ ation as calculated to promote mutual advantage and benefit. There is, perhaps, no happier example of the double suitability to camera and rod than is afforded by that portion of the Froom which lies near Farleigh Castle. At this spot there is ample work for the camera for the best part of a day, within a few yards of the Bridge, somewhat away from the course of the stream itself, and more amongst the old ruins; whilst the “ rod- ster ” may, by taking train to Freshford, have a day’s fishing over the two or more miles of water which lie between that station and Farleigh, and enjoy a most delightful ramble along the banks of this pretty little river. There are many private waters, too, within easy hail of Bristol, and I could, with bated breath, tell of one where, with an arti ficial minnow and breezy weather, the favoured angler, provided with the necessary pass, has an exceedingly good chance of capturing many a brace of trout, running from three-quarters of a pound up to two, three, and even five or six pounds weight. As I have been able to verify these sizes personally, I think I may venture to assert that there is, at all events, some fishing near Bristol. Were I to plunge into reminiscences of old fishing days, I fear I should become wearisome. It usually happens that such reminiscences are more interesting to the actors in them than to outside listeners. Neither do I wish to try to write a book on angling—that has been well done by Francis Francis, and in the olden days by the great master old Izaak Walton. Now, if any one here present has never in the course of his life “ happened upon ” dear old Izaak, let him hunt up a copy forthwith, and I promise him much pleasure from the perusal thereof. The delicious air of contemplation and genial humor which pervade the book will always render it conspicuous, even quite apart from any value it may have as a special text book. Will you allow me to conclude with a few words which I have extracted from this very favourite old author ? So much of the work is in the form of conversations between Venator and Piscator and another, that the following will explain itself:— Venator.—Let’s go merrily to-supper, and then have a gentle touch at singing and drinking ; but the last with moderation. CORIDON.- Come, now for your song, for we have fed heartily. Come, hostess, lay a few more sticks on the fire; and now sing when you will. Piscator.—Well, then, here’s to you Corydon ; and now for my song— “ Oh ! the gallant fisher’s life, It is the best of any, ’Tis full of pleasure void of strife, And is beloved by many. Other joys Are but toys. Only this Lawful is, For our skill Breeds no ill, But contentand pleasure.” Notes. Mr. Cocking's throat photograph, taken by the lime light, took the members of the Photographic Society a little by surprise, as they were scarcely prepared for such a success. The actual picture was less than half an inch in diameter, but even when enlarged on the screen to nearly eighteen inches, the definition was quite satis factory. A cabinet lens was used. Few photographers know how to employ a portrait lens; Mr. Cocking certainly does. it was quite a treat on Tuesday night to have a lantern display without the lantern intervening between specta tors and the screen. In fact, the use of a damp screen, with the lantern behind it, is now so rare that this method of exhibition came quite fresh to the members of the Photographic Society. Moreover, images are decidedly seen to greater advantage on a damp screen. We saw a curious photograph the other day in Mr. William Mayland’s studio at Deal. It was a sea picture