“The dressing of leather,” says Hull, in his _History of the Glove Trade_, published in England in 1834, “formed one of the earliest occupations of mankind in all countries; and it is a significant fact that Laplanders, Africans and Canadian Indians dress skins in the highest perfection, altho’ their means and processes necessarily are of the rudest kind. The Laplanders also make very tolerable gloves.” With all due respect to the Laplanders, and other aborigines, we venture to place the tawers of Annonay above even those primitive artists to whom Mr. Hull gave first credit. Mr. Hull wrote his little book to prove that the free trade policy would be the ruination of England’s home manufactures—nor was he greatly mistaken, as far as the glove business of his day was concerned. Naturally, this vehement protectionist had little good to say of French methods—which accounts, perhaps, for his going back to the uncivilized peoples to pay his debt for the art of leather-dressing; in England, certainly, at that period, skill in preparing glove skins was sadly lacking. The finest qualities of French kid skins, suitable for glacé hand-wear, come from the valleys of the Loire, the Rhone, the Poiton and Auvergne. Inferior to these are those which emanate from the extreme south of France, from Provence and the Pyrenees; as one nears Spain, the skins coarsen. At Annonay, the skin-dressing industry—like that of glove-making at Grenoble—has been established for so many centuries, that long family lines have devoted themselves for successive generations to that single calling. Fathers, sons and grandchildren have passed their lives and spent their efforts in furthering and perfecting the art of preparing glove skins which should be without a rival. The “French National” skins are the result. Doubtless they are the finest skins in the world. To appreciate fully the perfection of this art, and its importance to the science of glove-making, a visit to the largest skin-dressing establishment in Annonay to-day would appear almost indispensable. In imagination, accordingly, let us enter the factory in question, owned and operated by Messrs. Briancon & Company. We find it a large, airy, well-lighted, four-storied structure, recently built for the express purpose for which it is now used. When the skins “in the hair” arrive at this factory they are at once hoisted to the top floor, where they are unpacked and piled up in stacks. The dresser holds the skins on account of the manufacturer of gloves who has bought them at the fairs. To each manufacturer is allotted sufficient floor space in the fourth story of the dressing factory to receive his supply of skins. Each stack is ticketed with the name of the owner or owners—that is, the manufacturer—and its place of origin.