If now a ready pen waited on fancy to state the facts it would establish an imaginative theory for centuries, for like gossip, a thing once printed in a book will long pass on unquestioned and be quoted or re-stated many times. There are pearls which for certain qualities invite as a descriptive term the word live. There are others which by comparison appear, and are described, as dead. Then there are others that lose by untoward circumstances the live qualities they once possessed and without dying become dead pearls. The calcite carbonate crystals of which they are formed dissolve in acids and are affected to a certain extent by the acidity of the excretions of the human skin, sufficiently in some cases to destroy, or at any rate dim, their luster. Gases in the atmosphere, sudden changes in temperature, heat, and various other influences operate more or less in the same direction. The chemical changes thus produced might with poetic license be called the death of the pearl and in a sense the term would be true were the whole pearl involved, but as a rule these misfortunes affect the outer skin of the pearl only, so if that dies death is but skin deep, a live pearl remaining beneath it. As life and death means the segregation of particles into a compact individuality and their final dissolution, pearls like all other things in the restless economy of nature live and die, but the loss of some of its native charms by the gem is not more a sign of death than the rougher cuticle of a weather beaten sailor with which exposure has replaced the smooth skin of the boy. Nevertheless the idea of death coming to the pearl fascinates and enterprising writers succeed in frequently placing very interesting and readable articles before the public which incite the wonderment of the reader and perpetuate the impression that this beloved gem is some sort of a living creature subject to human vicissitudes. Lately a story appeared in current publications which told how the pearls of a lady's necklace sickened and lost their beauty. Much distressed she carried them to the expert dealer of whom she bought them who gravely advised her to let her maid wear them whereupon, they recovered from the illness and their lustrous beauty was restored. Twentieth century versions of fables older than this era are common; shrewd traders and writers use them, nor are they always careful to attach the fable to the particular gem to which, by right of ancient usage, it belongs. The magical loss of color in the presence of impending danger to its wearer is the ruby's prerogative, but, though pearls may lose their charms by exposure to heat, gas and rough usage, the wily orientals of remote or later ages provided no traditional recovery more wonderful than the prosaic method of feeding them to fowls and cutting them out of the gizzard an hour or two later.