Chemistry Show

Three floors of the Grand Central Palace, Manhattan, glared teemed, smelled, echoed last week with the Tenth National Exposition of the Chemical Industries. "Catalysis recreates industries .... Chemistry catalyzes Commerce"--those were the slogans in the American Chemical Society's salon. The keynote of the show was: how Science accelerates reactions in the business world, like a catalytic agent, without itself changing character. Purely, austerely scientific are the training and practice of a modern chemist. Of enormous commercial value, and hence of social significance, are his works where he is employed, he and a thousand brother experimenters, by interests like Du Pont, Ford, Eastman, Bell and the U. S. Government.

The exposition's head adviser, Dr. Arthur D. Little of Cambridge, Mass., made a public pronouncement: "The world unquestionably owes a great debt to German Science but the supremacy of German chemistry is a thing of the past. No American need go to Germany to study chemistry. He will be better taught at home."

There was a Court of Chemical Achievement, showing forth a score of "most significant" developments (strictly native) within the twelvemonth:

Synthetic silk or "rayon," a fabric made from wood and other forms of cellulose, now manufactured by the millions of pounds, was thus honored.

Sprayed rubber goods were shown, lighter, cheaper, more thoroughly impregnated (waterproofed) by a new process.

Selenium insulation for electric wires was the contribution of Adviser Little to better fire protection.

Bakelite, the sensation of the chemists' convention last year (TIME, Sept. 22), was honored. (In its booth on the floor below the Court, this substance, a compound of phenol and formaldehyde, was shown, possessing strength, resisting heat, chemicals and electricity, possessing permanent color and finish. It was shown molded in gorgeous beads, rings, pendants, watch charms, necktie gauds; into smoking pipes, cigar holders like amber, glowing cane knobs, translucent manicure sets; into durable motor fittings, telephone instruments, tool handles.)

Through the booths the public wandered, goggling and prying, shyly stroking, timidly querying about improved sugar filters, acid-proof sewer ware, glass-enameled steel goods ("No, madam," said the guardian of a huge sea-blue bowl of this material, "we did not make the goldfish"), monstrous cauldrons and crushers and carborundum refractories that industrial chemists use in their vast necromancies. A glum coterie stood before ranged vials of "industrial alcohols." Twin spirals of galvanized iron whirled at different speeds in glassed boxes, proving to the eye how much less hot air is lost from heat pipes when they are properly swaddled. Before the Anaconda Copper Co.'s glittering display, the crowds milled thickly: an ingot of solid gold! A bottle of platinum filings! Of palladium! In a far corner, a genial little man plunged a gas blow torch into a jug of water. "See, it still burns furiously. And in that vat of molten lead, too. Reason: our patent pumps and tanks mix with ordinary city gas all the air it needs to burn efficiently anywhere." Hard by was a row of bottles with "white fish meal--for cattle," "impure glycerine--pure glycerine," "cod liver oil, certified grade," and other irrelevant mottoes. "Na, na!" said the gnarled Scot in charge, "we dinnae make sich stuff. Bit they ither folk employ oor mechines fir th' dryin' an' extracting "

Dust Fuel. The U. S. Department of Agriculture had a miniature device resembling a one-cylinder combustion engine. Into the cylinder was put a mixture of various kinds of carbonaceous dust--grain, sugar, cocoa, wood, even ground spices and cornstarch. When mixed with air and an electric spark administered, the dust exploded. Perhaps it was a new clue to the solution of the fuel problem. Chemist W. A. Noel of the Department had hit upon it when the carriage of his model grain elevator was blown to the top of its shaft like a motor piston and wrecked, by the spontaneous combustion of dust accumulated in the shaft. His major problem now is elimination of the unburned residue after each explosion. He believes waste dusts from mills and factories may some day drive multicylindered motor cars.