So when you are ready to make glair, you separate the white of the egg from the yolk; and placing the white on the platter you beat that white of egg strongly, continuously, with the little stick described above, until it is converted, as it were, into a water-froth, or into the likeness of snow, and sticks to the platter, and loses the power of running or shifting in any direction, even if you turn it bottom-side-up, that is, the bottom of the platter on top and the glair underneath. But still you should know this: if you were to beat seven or ten times, in beating or whipping the glair, after it sticks to the platter as described above, it would be improved. Indeed, that insufficient beating of the glair proves a pitfall to many; and when it is whipped too little, it becomes practically a glue, and when mixed with colour it makes that colour run like a thread, and the colour is utterly ruined, and cannot even flow from the writer´s pen without great difficulty; and when it is laid on parchment, it appears very unsightly. After the white is whipped, put the platter in a quiet and clean place, slanting it a little, so that the glair-liquid may distil from the froth. Of course, if it is hot weather, put it in a cool place, so that it will not dry up; or, if it is wintry cold, protect it in a warm one, so that it will not freeze. Now when the glair liquid has distilled, and you have cleaned the shell of egg, pour the same liquid into the same shell. For if it were to stay very long in the platter it would deteriorate, though especially in summer so much so that in the space of one night and day it often turns into a sort of stringy drop, or dries up. But in its natural container it keeps naturally.