always genuine, for the wily Bulgar sometimes "increases the yield" by
sprinkling his roses in the vat with synthetic geraniol just as the wily
Italian pours a barrel of American cottonseed oil over his olives in the
press.

Another method of extracting the scent of flowers is by _enfleurage_,
which takes advantage of the tendency of fats to absorb odors. You know
how butter set beside fish in the ice box will get a fishy flavor. In
_enfleurage_ moist air is carried up a tower passing alternately over
trays of fresh flowers, say violets, and over glass plates covered with
a thin layer of lard. The perfumed lard may then be used as a pomade or
the perfume may be extracted by alcohol.

But many sweet flowers do not readily yield an essential oil, so in such
oases we have to rely altogether upon more or less successful
substitutes. For instance, the perfumes sold under the names of
"heliotrope," "lily of the valley," "lilac," "cyclamen," "honeysuckle,"
"sweet pea," "arbutus," "mayflower" and "magnolia" are not produced from
these flowers but are simply imitations made from other essences,
synthetic or natural. Among the "thousand flowers" that contribute to
the "Eau de Mille Fleurs" are the civet cat, the musk deer and the sperm
whale. Some of the published formulas for "Jockey Club" call for civet
or ambergris and those of "Lavender Water" for musk and civet. The less
said about the origin of these three animal perfumes the better.
Fortunately they are becoming too expensive to use and are being
displaced by synthetic products more agreeable to a refined imagination.
The musk deer may now be saved from extinction since we can make
tri-nitro-butyl-xylene from coal tar. This synthetic musk passes muster
to human nostrils, but a cat will turn up her nose at it. The synthetic
musk is not only much cheaper than the natural, but a dozen times as