THE “MATS” OF THE NEW ZEALANDERS — THE MATERIAL OF WHICH THEY ARE MADE — THE NEW ZEALAND FLAX, OR PHORMIUM — MODE OF MAKING THE MATS — VARIOUS KINDS OF MATS — THE RAIN MAT AND ITS USES — THE OPEN-WORKED MAT — THE DIFFERENT ORNAMENTS OF THE MAT: STRINGS AND TAGS, SCARLET TUFTS AND BORDERS — WAR CLOAKS OF THE CHIEFS — THE DOGS’-HAIR MAT — THE CHIEF PARÁTENE IN HIS CLOAK — MODE OF MAKING THE WAR CLOAKS — BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE CHIEF — AMUSING INSTANCE OF VANITY IN A CHIEF — SUBSTITUTION OF THE BLANKET AND ITS ATTENDANT EVILS — ORNAMENTS OF THE NEW ZEALANDER’S HEAD — FEATHERS, AND FEATHER BOXES — VARIOUS DECORATIONS OF GREEN JADE — TIKIS AND EAR-RINGS — A REMARKABLE AMULET — THE SHARK’S TOOTH — MODES OF DRESSING THE HAIR — HAIR-CUTTING AND SHAVING — A PRIMITIVE RAZOR.

We now come to the costume of the New Zealanders. This is of a rather remarkable character, and may be characterized by the generic title of mat, with the exception of the belt which has just been described. The costume of the New Zealander consists of a square or oblong mat, varying considerably in size, though always made on the same principle. In this mat the natives envelop themselves after a very curious fashion, generally muffling themselves up to the neck, and often throwing the folds round them after the fashion of a conventional stage villain.

These mats are of various textures, and differ as much in excellence and value as do the fabrics of more civilized lands. The material is, however, the same in all cases, and even the mode of wearing the garment, the value being estimated by the fineness of the material, the amount of labor bestowed upon it, and the ornaments introduced into it.

The material of which the mats are made is the so-called New Zealand “flax,” scientifically known by the name of Phormium tenax. It belongs to the natural family of the Liliaceæ and the tribe Asparagaceæ. The plant has a number of showy yellow flowers arranged on a tall branch-panicle, and a number of straightish leaves, all starting from the root, and being five or six feet long, and not more than two inches wide at the broadest part.

The fibres which run along these leaves are very strong and fine, and, when properly dressed and combed, have a beautiful silky look about them. At one time great quantities of New Zealand flax, as it was called, were imported into Europe, and the plant was cultivated in some of the southern parts of the Continent. Strong, however, as it may be, it has the curious fault of snapping easily when tied in a knot, and on this account is not valued so much in Europe as in its own country. I have before me a large roll of string made by natives from the phormium. It is very strong in proportion to its thickness, and much of it has been used in suspending various curiosities in my collection; but it cannot endure being made into a knot. It is useful enough in hitches, especially the “clove-hitch;” but as soon as it is tied into a knot, it will hardly bear the least strain.

The principle on which the mats are made is very simple. A weaving frame is erected on sticks a foot or so from the ground, and upon it is arranged the weft, made of strings or yarns, placed as closely together as possible, and drawn quite tight. The weft is double, and is passed under and over each yarn, and the upper one is always passed between the ends of the under weft before it is drawn tight. The mat is therefore nothing more than a number of parallel strings laid side by side, and connected, at intervals of an inch or so, by others that pass across them. More care is taken of the edges, which are turned over, and the yarns are so interwoven as to make a thick and strong border.

When the wefts are hauled tight, they are beaten into their place by means of a bone instrument, very much like a paper knife in shape; and in every respect the weaving of a New Zealander most strongly reminds the spectator of the process of making the Gobelin tapestries. In both cases there is a fixed warp on which the weft is laboriously woven by hand, and is kept straight and regular by being struck with an instrument that passes between the threads of the warp. Although at the present day the warp of the Gobelin tapestry is stretched perpendicularly, in former times it was stretched longitudinally in a low frame, exactly similar in principle to that which is employed by the New Zealander.

The reader will perceive that the process of weaving one of these mats must be a work of considerable time, and an industrious woman can scarcely complete even a common mat under eighteen months, while one of the more elaborate robes will occupy twice that time.

The illustration No. 1 on the next page, is drawn from a sketch of a house belonging to one of the great chiefs, and in it are seen some women busily employed in making mats. One of them is scraping the leaves with a shell or stone, while another is engaged at the primitive loom. The mat is represented as nearly completed, and the woman is seen with the four ends of the double weft in her hand, passing them across each other before she draws them tight. A heap of dressed leaves of the phormium is seen in the background, and a bundle of the long swordlike leaves is strewn on the floor. Various baskets and other implements, made of the same material, are hung from the rafters; and in front is one of the curiously carved poles which support the roof.

It has been mentioned that there is but one principle on which all the mats are made, but that there is a very great variety in making them. There is, for example, the rain mat, which is used in wet weather. As the structure proceeds, the manufacturer inserts into each knot of the weft an undressed blade of the phormium upon which the epidermis has been allowed to remain. When wrapped round the body, the leaves all fall over each other, so as to make a sort of penthouse, and to allow the rain to run over their smooth and polished surfaces until it falls to the ground.

When rain comes on, and a number of natives are seen squatting on the ground, each wearing his rain mat, they have a most absurd appearance, and look like a number of human beings who had hidden themselves in haycocks. On page 803 may be seen the figure of a chief wearing one of these dresses. The name of the mat is E mangaika.

I have seen another kind of mat, which is made in a kind of open-work pattern, produced by crossing every fifth strand of the warp. This mat is of the very best quality, and, considering the nature of the material of which it is made, is wonderfully light, soft, and pliant.

Another kind is the woman’s mat, of which there are several varieties. It is of larger size than that employed by the men, and is capable of enveloping the entire figure from head to foot. It is of rather lighter material than the rain mat, and is decorated on the exterior with a number of strings, varying in length from a few inches to three feet or so. A variety of this mat is distinguished by having the strings white instead of black. Specimens of both these mats are in my collection, and the general effect of them can be seen by reference to any of the illustrations which represent the native women.

Strings or tags are undoubtedly the most characteristic portion of the dress, and there is scarcely a mat of any description that is not ornamented with them. One variety of mat, which is called E wakaiwa, is covered with long cylindrical ornaments that look very much as if they were made of porcupine quills, being hard, and colored alternately black and yellow. The ornaments are, however, made of the phormium leaf in a very ingenious manner. The epidermis is carefully scraped off the under side of the leaf with a sharp-edged shell, and the leaf is then turned over. On the upper side the epidermis is removed at regular intervals, so as to expose the fibres.

The next process is to put the scraped leaf into a dye made of a decoction of kinan bark, and to let it remain for a definite time. When it is taken out, the dye has stained the exposed fibres a deep glossy black, while it has not been able to touch the polished yellow epidermis that is allowed to remain. The dyed leaves are next rolled up until they form cylinders as large as goose quills, and are then woven in regular rows into the material of a mat. As the wearer moves about, the cylinders rustle and clatter against each other, producing a sound which seems to be peculiarly grateful to the ears of the natives. Such a mat or cloak is highly prized. Several of these mats are in my collection, and very curious examples of native art they are.

One of these has cost the weaver an infinity of trouble. It is nearly five feet wide and three in depth. The warp has been dyed black, while the weft is white; and the effect of the weft passing in reverse lines across the warp is very good. Every other line of weft is decorated with the cylindrical tassels each of which is nine inches in length, and is divided into four parts by the removal of the epidermis. These tassels begin at the fourth line of warp, and are regularly continued to the lower edge, whence they hang so as to form a fringe. On account of their number, they would qualify the garment as a rain mat on an emergency; and the rattling they make as the mat is moved is very much like that which is produced by a peacock when it rustles its train.

Along the upper edge, which passes over the shoulders, the strings have been rolled together into ropes as thick as the finger, and then plaited so as to form a thick and soft border which will not hurt the neck. The portion of the mat which comes between the edge and the first row of tassels is ornamented with scraps of scarlet wool plaited into the weft. This wool is a favorite though costly ornament to the natives, being procured from seamen’s woollen caps, which they unpick, and the yarns used to ornament the dress.

One of these mantles brought from New Zealand by Stiverd Vores, Esq., is adorned very largely with scarlet wool. It is completely bordered with the precious material, a narrow line of scarlet running under the upper edge, a broader under the lower, while the two sides are decorated with a band nearly four inches in width. In this case the wool has been arranged in a series of loops; but in another specimen the loops are cut so as to form a fringe.

In this latter mantle the tags, instead of being cylindrical and alternately black and yellow, are entirely black, each rolled leaf being wholly divested of its epidermis, and the fibres radiating from each other in tassel fashion. I rather think that the object of this mode of treatment is to prevent the eye from being distracted by the jangling yellow tags, and so to permit the scarlet border to exhibit its beauties to the best advantage.

Scarlet worsted is, of course, a comparatively late invention, and has only been introduced since the visits of Europeans. In former days the natives were equally fond of ornamenting their cloaks, and were obliged to use the plumage of birds for the purpose. The feathers taken from the breast of the kaka (a species of nestor) were mostly used for this purpose. Although the colored ornaments are generally disposed in lines, they are sometimes arranged in tufts, which are disposed in regular intervals over the whole of the dress. Examples of this kind of decoration may be seen in several of the costumes which are drawn in this work.

The yarns or strings of which the warp is made are not twisted or plaited, but consist merely of the phormium fibres as they lie in the leaf. The leaves are prepared for this purpose by scraping off the epidermis on both sides, and then beating them on a flat stone with a pestle made of the hard volcanic stone employed in the manufacture of adzes and other tools.

The most valuable of all the dresses are the war cloaks of the great chiefs. They are very large, being sometimes nearly six feet in depth, and wide enough to be wrapped over the entire body and limbs. Their native name is Parawai.

Before making one of these great war mats, the weaver collects a large quantity of dog’s hair, which she assorts into parcels of different colors. She then sets up her simple loom, and fixes the warp as usual. But with every knot or mesh which she makes with the weft she introduces a tuft of hair, taking care to make each tuft long enough to overlap and conceal the insertion of the tufts in the next row. She is also careful about the regular arrangement of the hues, so that when a complete mat is made by a skilful weaver, it looks exactly as if it was composed of the skin of some large animal, the vegetable fibres which form the fabric itself being entirely concealed by the tufts of hair.

One of these mats is the result of some four years’ constant labor, and causes some surprise that a people so naturally indolent as the Maories should prove themselves capable of such long and steady industry. But the fact is, the mat maker is a woman and not a man, and in consequence is obliged to work, whether she likes it or not.

In the next place, mat weaving scarcely comes under the denomination of labor. The woman is not tied to time, nor even bound to produce a given number of mats within a given period. Her living, too, does not depend upon the rate of her work, and whether she takes eighteen months or two years to produce a garment is a matter of total indifference to all parties. Besides, she never works alone, but is always accompanied by friends, one of whom, perhaps, may be occupied in a similar manner, another may be employed in scraping the phormium leaves, and another is engaged in pounding and softening the fibres, or drying those that have just been dyed black.

But, whatever their hands may be doing, the weavers’ tongues are never still. A continual stream of talk flows round the looms, and the duty of mat making is thus changed into an agreeable mode of enjoying the pleasures of conversation while the hands are employed in a light and easy labor.

Very great ingenuity is displayed by the woman to whom is entrusted the onerous task of making a war mat. No two are alike, the weaver exercising her discretion respecting the colors and their arrangement. Some of them are made on the same principle as the Bechuana kaross,—namely, darkest in the centre, and fading into the lightest hues round the edges. Others are white or pale in the middle, and edged with a broad band of black or dark brown hair. Sometimes the colors are arranged in a zigzag pattern, and several mats are striped like tiger skins. They always have a sort of collar, composed of strips of fur, which hang about six inches over the shoulders.

In New Zealand there are one or two dresses which are made almost entirely of fur, the skins being dressed with the hair adhering to them, and then sewed together. A very remarkable mat is possessed by a powerful chief named Parátene Maioha. It is made of strips of dogs’ fur sewed over a large flaxen mat. Of this garment he is very proud, and reserves it to be worn on grand occasions. A portrait of this celebrated chief is given in the illustration No. 1, on the 820th page, partly to show the aspect of a Maori chief in time of peace, and partly to give the reader an idea of the peculiar look of the war cloak.

There is also before me a photographic portrait of Parátene, authenticated by his autograph, in which he is represented as clad in a different manner. He wears two mats or cloaks, the lower being of the finest flax, and called by the natives kaitaka. A description of this kind of cloak will be presently given. Over the kaitaka he wears a very remarkable war cloak, which is made of dogs’ fur sewed upon a flax mat. It reaches a little below the knees, and is made in perpendicular stripes alternately dark and pale, and is furnished with a thick collar or cape of the same material. This cape, by the way, bears a curious resemblance to the ornament which is worn by the Abyssinian chiefs.

Unfortunately for the general effect of the picture, Parátene has combed, divided, and brushed his hair in European fashion; and muffled up as he is to the chin, it is too evident that he is wearing a complete European suit under his mats. The cape has fallen off a little on the right side, and we have the absurd anomaly of a face profusely tattooed surmounted with hair that has just been brushed and combed, a dog-skin war mat, from which protrudes a bare right arm, a jade earring six inches long, and a black cravat and turn-down collar. In his right hand he grasps his cherished merai; his staff of office, or E’hani, rests against his shoulder; and by his side is his long battle-axe, adorned with a tuft of feathers and dog-skin. This same Parátene is a man of great mark among the Maories.

As is the case with natives of rank who have associated with Europeans, he is known by several names. The following account of him is given by Mr. G. F. Angas:

“Parátene (Broughton), whose native name was Te Maihoa, is a cousin of Te Whero-whero, and one of the leading men of the Ngatimahuta branch of the Waikato tribes. He generally resides in a village (or kainga) on the northern bank of the picturesque little harbor of Waingaroa, on the west coast of the Northern Island; and the correctness of his general conduct, and the gravity of his demeanor, have obtained for him a marked ascendancy over many of his equals in rank.

“Eccentricity is the principal feature in the character of this chief; and the scrupulous attention which he invariably pays to those trifling circumstances which constitute his notions of etiquette often renders his conduct highly curious. He has gained, by unwearied application, a smattering of arithmetic, and one of his most self-satisfactory exploits is the correct solution of some such important problem as the value of a pig of a certain weight, at a given price per pound, making the usual deduction for the offal. His erudite quality and the dignified gravity of his carriage have commanded the deferential respect of his people, and encouraged them to consider him quite an oracle.

“One little incident will place the harmless foible of this chief’s character in a striking light. When the author was about to employ his pencil in the delineation of his figure, Parátene desired to be excused for a few moments. Having gained his point, he sought an interview with Mrs. Wells, the missionary’s wife (under whose hospitable roof his portrait was taken), and, preferring his request with some solemn intimations of its paramount importance, begged ‘Mother’ to lend him a looking-glass, that he might compose his features in a manner suitable to his own idea of propriety ere he took his stand before the easel of the artist.”

It may be observed, by the way, that “Mother” is the term always employed by the natives when addressing the wife of a missionary. The autograph of Parátene, to which allusion has already been made, is written with pencil, and is perfectly intelligible, though the characters are shaky, large, and sprawling, and look as if they had been made by fingers more accustomed to handle the club than the pencil.

The last kind of mat which will be mentioned is the kaitaka. This garment is made of a peculiar kind of flax, cultivated for the express purpose, and furnishing a fibre which is soft and fine as silk. The whole of the mat is plain, except the border, which is in some cases two feet in depth, and which is most elaborately woven into a vandyked pattern of black, red, and white. At the present day a good kaitaka is scarcely anywhere to be seen, the skill required in making them being so great that only a few weavers can produce them, and European blankets being so easily procured that the natives will not take the trouble of weaving garments that take so much time and trouble.

Handsome as are these native garments, they are not very pleasant to wear. As the threads are only laid parallel to each other, and are not crossed, as in fabrics woven in the loom, they form scarcely any protection against the wind, although they may serve to keep out the rain. The mats are very heavy, my own small specimen of the waikawa cloak weighing five pounds and a half, and so stiff that they cannot be conveniently rolled up and packed away when out of use. An English blanket, on the contrary, is close-textured, resists the wind, is very light, and can be rolled up into a small compass; so that it is no wonder that the natives prefer it.

Unfortunately for them, it is not nearly so healthy a garment as that which is made by themselves, as it is worn for a long time without being washed, and so becomes saturated with the grease and paint with which the natives are fond of adorning their bodies. In consequence, it fosters several diseases of the skin to which the Maories are subject, and it has been found that those who wear blankets are much more subject to such ailments than those who adhere to the native raiment.

In some parts of the country, where the ground is hard and stony, the natives plait for themselves sandals or slippers, which very much resemble those which are used by the Japanese. They consist of the ever-useful phormium fibres, which are twisted into cords, and then plaited firmly into the shape of a shoe sole.

We now proceed from the dress to the ornaments worn by the New Zealanders.

In some respects they resemble those which are in use among other dark tribes. Feathers are much valued by them, and among the commonest of these adornments is a bunch of white feathers taken from the pelican, and fastened to the ears so as to fall on the shoulder. An example of this may be seen in the portrait of the old warrior on page 794. Sometimes the skin of a small bird is rudely stuffed, and then suspended as an earring, and sometimes one wing will be placed at each side of the head, the tips nearly meeting above.

The most prized of these adornments are the tail feathers of the bird called by the natives E Elia, or E Huia (Neomorpha Gouldii). It is allied to the hoopoos, and is remarkable for the fact that the beak of the male is straight and stout, while that of the female is long, slender, and sickle-shaped. The color of the bird is a dark glossy green of so deep a hue that in some lights it seems to be black. The tail feathers, however, are tipped with snowy white, so that when the bird spreads its plumage for flight, the tail looks at a little distance as if it were black, edged with white.

The bird is only found in the hills near Port Nicholson, and, as it is very wary, can scarcely be obtained except by the help of a native, who imitates its cry with wonderful perfection. The name E Elia is said to be merely an imitation of the long shrill whistle of the bird. The birds are so valued by the Maories that in all probability the species would have been extinct by this time, but for the introduction of European customs, which to a certain degree have driven out the ancient customs.

The feathers of the tail are the parts of the bird that are most valued by the chiefs, who place them in their hair on great occasions. So much do they prize these feathers, that they take the trouble to make boxes in which they are kept with the greatest care. These boxes are made by the chiefs themselves, and are covered with the most elaborate carvings, some of them being the finest specimens of art that can be found in New Zealand. They are of various shapes, but a very good idea of their usual form may be obtained from the illustration No. 3, on page 775. The usual forms are similar to that of the illustration, but in some cases the boxes are oblong. There is now before me a drawing of one of these boxes, which is covered with an equally elaborate pattern, in which the lines are mostly straight instead of curved, the pattern being of a vandyked character, similar to that upon the kaitaka cloak. There is a projecting handle upon the lid, and an almost similar handle upon each end.

The natives do not, however, confine themselves to wearing the tail feathers, but, when they can obtain so valuable a bird, are sure to use every portion of it. The head seems to be thought of next importance to the tail, and is suspended to the ear by a thong.

Perhaps the most characteristic ornaments that are worn by the New Zealanders are those which are made of green jade. This mineral, called by the natives Poonamu, is mostly found near the lakes in the Middle Island, and is valued by them with almost a superstitious reverence. If a very large piece be found, it is taken by some chief, who sets to work to make a club from it. This club, called a merai, will be described when we come to treat of war as conducted by the Maories.

In the illustration No. 1, on page 841, are represented some of the most characteristic jade ornaments.

Fig. 1 is a flat image bearing the rude semblance of a human being, and made of various sizes. That which is here given is rather smaller than the usual dimensions. It is called by the natives Tiki, and is at the same time one of the commonest and the highest prized articles among the New Zealanders. A new one can be purchased for a sum which, though it would be considered absurdly high in England for such an object, is in New Zealand really a low price, and scarcely repays the trouble of carving it.

Jade is an extremely hard mineral, ranking next to the ruby in that respect, and, in consequence of its extreme hardness, taking a peculiar glossy polish that is seen on no other substance. The time which is occupied in carving one of these ornaments is necessarily very great, as the native does not possess the mechanical means which render its manipulation a comparatively easy task to the European engraver, and can only shape his ornaments by laboriously rubbing one piece of stone upon another.

That ornaments made of such a material should be highly prized is not a matter of surprise, and it is found that a wealthy chief will give an extraordinarily high price for a handsome jade ornament. There is in my collection a very ancient Buddhist amulet, made of the purest green jade, and beautifully carved, the remarkable portion of it being a revolving wheel with spiral spokes, the wheel being cut out of the solid jade. The amulet was found in the apartments of the Queen of Oude, and had evidently been imported from China, where it was engraved, the whole character of the work belonging to a very ancient epoch of Chinese art. It was shown to a Maori chief, who was then visiting England, and who was intensely pleased with it, saying that, if it were sent to New Zealand and offered for sale to one of the great chiefs, it would be purchased for £20 or £25 of English money.

It has been just mentioned that, in spite of the labor bestowed on the ornament, a new tiki can be purchased for a moderate sum. Such, however, would not be the case were the tiki an old one. These ornaments are handed down from father to son, and in process of time are looked upon with the greatest reverence, and treated as heirlooms which no money can buy.

One of these tikis was seen by Mr. Angas lying on the tomb of a child, where it had been placed as an offering by the parents. It had lain there for a long time; but, in spite of the value of the ornament, no one had ventured to touch it. It was a very small one, even less in size than the drawing in the illustration, and had in all probability been worn by the child on whose tomb it lay.

Most of these tikis are plain, but some of them have their beauty increased by two patches of scarlet cement with which the sockets of the eyes are filled.

The tikis are worn on the breast, suspended by a cord round the neck; and almost every person of rank, whether man or woman, possesses one. They are popularly supposed to be idols, and are labelled as such in many museums; but there is not the least reason for believing them to fulfil any office except that of personal decoration. The Maories are fond of carving the human figure upon everything that can be carved. Their houses are covered with human figures, their canoes are decorated with grotesque human faces, and there is not an implement or utensil which will not have upon it some conventional representation of the human form. It is therefore not remarkable that when a New Zealander finds a piece of jade which is too small to be converted into a weapon, and too flat to be carved into one of the cylindrical earrings which are so much valued, he should trace upon it the same figure as that which surrounds him on every side.

The most common forms of earring are those which are shown at figs. 4 and 5, the latter being most usually seen. It is so strangely shaped that no one who did not know its use would be likely to imagine that it was ever intended to be worn in the ear. Two rather remarkable earrings are worn in New Zealand as marks of rank; one being a natural object, and the other an imitation of it. This earring is called mako tamina, and is nothing but a tooth of the tiger shark. Simple though it be, it is greatly prized, as being a mark of high rank, and is valued as much as a plain red button by a Chinese mandarin, or, to come nearer home, the privilege of wearing a piece of blue ribbon among ourselves.

Still more prized than the tooth itself is an imitation of it in pellucid jade. The native carver contrives to imitate his model wonderfully well, giving the peculiar curves of a shark’s tooth with singular exactness. Such an ornament as this is exceedingly scarce, and is only to be seen in the ears of the very greatest chiefs. Anything seems to serve as an earring, and it is not uncommon to see natives of either sex wearing in their ears a brass button, a key, a button-hook, or even a pipe.

There is very little variety in the mode of dressing the hair, especially among women. Men generally keep it rather short, having it cut at regular intervals, while some of the elders adhere to the ancient custom of wearing it long, turning it up in a bunch on the top of the head, and fastening it with combs.

These are formed after a fashion common to all Polynesia, and extending even to Western Africa. The teeth are not cut out of a single piece of wood, but each is made separately, and fastened to its neighbor by a strong cross-lashing. The teeth, although slight, are strong and elastic, and are well capable of enduring the rather rough handling to which they are subjected.

Children of both sexes always wear the hair short like the men; but as the girls grow up, they allow the hair to grow, and permit it to flow over their shoulders on either side of the face. They do not part it, but bring it down over the forehead, and cut it in a straight line just above the eyebrows. When they marry, they allow the whole of the hair to grow, and part it in the middle. They do not plait or otherwise dress it, but merely allow it to hang loosely in its natural curls.

Hair-cutting is with the New Zealanders a long and tedious operation, and is conducted after the fashion which prevails in so many parts of the world. Not knowing the use of scissors, and being incapable of producing any cutting instrument with an edge keen enough to shave, they use a couple of shells for the operation, placing the edge of one under the hair that is to be cut, and scraping it with the edge of the other.

Although this plan is necessarily a very slow one, it is much more efficacious than might be imagined, and is able not only to cut the hair of the head, but to shave the stiff beards of the men. In performing the latter operation, the barber lays the edge of the lower shell upon the skin, and presses it well downward, so as to enable the upper shell to scrape off the hair close to the skin. Beard-shaving is necessarily a longer process than hair-cutting, because it is not possible to cut more than one or two hairs at a time, and each of them takes some little time in being rubbed asunder between the edges of the shells.