"You know, Spencer, solid iron floats on molten iron like solid
water--ice--floats on liquid water," explained Craig to me.

Poissan nodded. "I take this sugar carbon and place it in this
soft iron cup. Then I screw on this cap over the cup, so. Now I
place this mass of iron scraps in the crucible of the furnace and
start the furnace."

He turned a switch, and long yellowish-blue sheets of flame
spurted out from the electrodes on either side. It was weird,
gruesome. One could feel the heat of the tremendous electric
discharge.

As I looked at the bluish-yellow flames they gradually changed to
a beautiful purple, and a sickish sweet odour filled the room.
The furnace roared at first, but as the vapors increased it
became a better conductor of the electricity, and the roaring
ceased.

In almost no time the mass of iron scraps became molten. Suddenly
Poissan plunged the cast-iron cup into the seething mass. The cup
floated and quickly began to melt. As it did so he waited
attentively until the proper moment. Then with a deft motion he
seized the whole thing with a long pair of tongs and plunged it
into a vat of running water. A huge cloud of steam filled the
room.

I felt a drowsy sensation stealing over me as the sickish sweet
smell from the furnace increased. Gripping the chair, I roused
myself and watched Poissan attentively. He was working rapidly.