And there’s a possibility that Derek Jones and Chris Williams will be crossing the Atlantic to teach here…but that’s still up in the air due to travel restrictions. If they are able to make the trip, we’ll let you know about their classes ASAP.
We will require that all registrants be fully vaccinated for COVID-19 by the class date, and follow CDC guidelines on masking at the time of the class.
There are six bench spaces available in each class; a waitlist will kick in once a class is sold out. (And I beg you: Please be sure you have the class dates available before registering.)
If you’ve taken a class at the storefront in the past, you might notice that the registration is a little different this year: The full class fee is collected at registration (the instructor will still, however, determine the stock fee, which will be payable to her or him at the start of the class).
Note: While you can click on the “Register Now” buttons on the Covington Mechanicals ticketing site, sales won’t be live until May 17 at 10 a.m. Eastern.
And because it’s been a while since we offered classes, here are a few FAQs to jog everyone’s memory:
If you have questions about a class, send an email to covingtonmechanicals@gmail.com. Please DO NOT email the LAP help desk.
“Why can’t the LAP help desk help with classes?” These classes are not through Lost Art Press; I’m handling all the backend stuff and billing, and each instructor (including me) is an independent contractor who is, in effect, renting the space for the class duration. Meghan handles the LAP help desk (questions about books, orders, etc.), and she is busy enough without having to forward stuff about classes to me.
“Why isn’t the stock fee included with the registration fee?” Each instructor does her or his own stock buying and prep, and we have no way of knowing far in advance of the class how much the wood (etc.) will cost. Especially right now. So the instructor will let registrants know the stock fee at least a week before the class starts, and payment will be due to her or him at the start of class.
“What is the cancellation policy?” You can cancel for a full refund up until four weeks before the class date. Refund for cancellations within four weeks prior to the class date will be issues only if the slot can be filled.
“I tried to sign up right when classes went live, and didn’t get in. You suck!” I’m sorry. We have limited space and only six benches for students. But please see below.
“Should I bother signing up for the waitlist?” Yes! We do have cancellations – and when that happens, I notify the first person on said list, who then has 24 hours to register. And if that person can’t make it, on to the next, and so on.
“Will Chris be teaching any classes?” Nope – he’s crazy busy with publishing projects.
“I’m coming from out of town; where should I stay?”Check out this blog post, which has suggestions not only on where to stay, but where to eat and non-woodworking-related greater Cincinnati attractions.
“Will you offer a class in X?” Possibly. Send me an email, and if we think there would be enough interest, and we can find the right person to teach it, we will consider X topic.
“Will you offer more classes in 2022?” Most likely – but far fewer than we did in 2019. We’re extremely busy with other stuff, and while it’s great fun to have people in the shop, we can’t get much other work done while classes are going on.
The Fauteuil [armchair] that I am going to describe is one of those that is called a Cabriolet, because of the circular shape of its plan, [which is] different from that of the Queen’s Fauteuils [armchair], which is straight from the side of the back, as one could see in the view of which I made the description of the Queen’s Chair, page 614, etc.
I have chosen this form so that in the description of chairs and fauteuils [side chairs and armchairs], I am not required to repeat myself. What I said of the Queen’s Chairs can be applied to armchairs of the first type. What I am going to say about cabriolets can be applied to side chairs of the second.
Cabriolets are the seating [that is] the most fashionable at present, and at the same time demand the most attention on the part of the Worker, especially with regards to their construction and the cutting of the wood for the back, which being circular in plan and splayed, forms a part of the surface in a tapering shape, which the Joiners call faire la hotte [make the hood. “Unehotte” is a reference to the type of large conical basket splayed toward the top – like the back of the armchair – you cut a cone in half on its center and there you have it, a “hotte” and the back of the armchair].
To make these sorts of armchairs with all the perfection that it is possible to accomplish, one must first begin by taking account of the shape of the plan, which normally is an S in the front, and in a half-circle, or better said, a half-oval in the rear, like in Fig. 5 and Fig. 8, which represent half of the plan Fig. 5, a half larger than the latter, so as to make the operations more sensible.
After having thus drawn this plan of Fig. 8 (the half could be taken for the whole) at about 15 thumbs from the front of the seat on the line from the middle a b, you raise a perpendicular c d, which you set at 11 thumbs in height. Then from point d to point e, which is the center of the part of the circle of the back of the seat, you take a line e f, which represents the middle of the rear leg, to both sides of which line you trace the width of the rear leg parallel to the latter. Whatever be the flare, or to speak like the Workers, the reverse [the angle/tilt] of the back, the face of the upright should always present itself perpendicularly to the curve of the seat where the exterior contour is indicated by lines g, g, g and the interior (at least of the cross-pieces) by h, h, h. Then there remains to draw on the plan the length of the back seat rails and their splay. This cannot be done except after taking into account the height of the back and the form of its contours that you must first draw separately on the surface developed from the back, which is done in the following manner:
The splay of the back being determined, as in Fig. 5 from a b, from these points you lift two perpendiculars on the line of the middle of the seat, which parallels you extend indefinitely outside of the Figure. From point e, (which is the center of the arc of the back of the plan), you lift up likewise a perpendicular parallel to these latter, which you extend indefinitely on both sides. Then, at whatever distance, like in Fig. 4, you lift from this line perpendiculars f g, and g d, of which distance f g is equal to the height of the back. Then, from point d, you pass an oblique line by point h, that you extend until it meets line g f e i at point i (which is found outside the plate), from which point like the center and distances i f and i g, you describe the circular arcs f m, and g n, Fig. 4. This being done, you take on the plan, Fig. 5, the distance a l, that you transfer, Fig. 4, from f to o. From this point and from point i, you pass a line o p, which is the middle of the rear leg. You draw this as usual for both the curves and the meeting of the back rails, whether this curve is of a normal form like side A, on which I just made the demonstration, or even if it is an oval like on side B, which is no matter. The only exception is when the upright must be wider within, which I will speak of in its turn.
The curve of the back being thus drawn, you draw separately, Fig. 7, the upright of the back (which is double the proportion of Fig. 4 in order to correspond to the plan in Fig. 8), that you extend just to the total height of the back. Then you draw on the upright all the locations of rails, both at the top and bottom at their greatest width, as indicated by points a, b, c, d, from which points you lower the line i l, as many perpendiculars as the distances on this line are carried over to the plan of Fig. 8; namely, that of i h, Fig. 7, from I to 2; that of i g, from 1 to 3, which gives the splay of the bottom back rail, that of i f, from 1 to 4; and that of i e, from 1 to 5; which gives the splay of the top rail, which you draw, like the other, with the circular arcs described from center e, Fig. 8.
The lower sections of these rear legs is nothing different from the others of which I already spoke; it is only that the serpentine leg is more splayed to the outside so as to make more of a stable position to the seat, what the Joiners call shoring up [to brace], which should be 2 thumbs at least.
I said above that armchairs differ from side chairs in that the first have these armrests intended for the elbows of those who are seated within. These armrests are composed of an arm a, Fig. 3, of a bracket b, which is assembled at one end to the side seat rail and the others in the arm, which is assembled itself by mortise and tenon on the upright, with which you should take care to make it match in a smooth and gracious manner, as I have noted in Figs. 1, 2 & 3.
The assembly of the arms with the uprights is done squarely, but I believe that whatever the use, one would do very well to make a cut [an angled shoulder], which, by preventing the inconveniences of squared cuts of which I spoke above, renders the work more solid, in that the cut from below would support the arm and would prevent it from dropping further down.
The arms of Fauteuils are drawn on the plan, as are the rails of the back, with the exception that they are not splayed except at the end where they connect with the upright, the other being perpendicular, which gives it an awkward form that you must keep square, as I have indicated by punctuated lines m n and o p, Fig. 7. See also Figs. 5 & 8, where these arms are drawn on the plan, as well as the brackets, of which I will make a more extensive description afterward in speaking of the different sorts of arms of Fauteuils and their brackets.
The Fauteuil of which I am making the description here is prepared to receive a caned seat, as you can see in Fig. 1, which represents it viewed from the side. That of Fig. 2 represents it viewed from the face, the side A completely disassembled and ready for cutting out, and the other side B completely cut out and assembled but for the seat, which is installed only after being finish with the cane, because the tenon of the bracket passes through it to be pegged in the side seat rail.
See also Fig. 6, which represents the rear seat rail of the armchair which receives the seat, as I explained up above, and Fig. 8, where I indicated by punctuated lines i, i, i, the outside of the frame of the seat, of which the projection ends at both uprights, and where the interior indicated by lines l, l, l is wider at the rear to leave solid wood in front of the upright.
I said up above that the frames of seats are assembled en chapeau [capped] from the front. However, I believe that for the neatness of the work, it would be much better to assemble them mitered in the front, like line l i, and at the rear when they are curved, as in this instance by a forked joint [bridle joint], at the space of the notch of the rear feet. The height of Fauteuils is a bit the same as that of side chairs with the exception that the seat should be a bit lower and consequently the back higher in proportion, especially when they are more splayed.
As to their width, they should be more considerable than that of side chairs given that it is necessary that the person who is seated within be contained comfortably with their clothes. That is why you make some width to the seat of Fauteuils from 22 to 26 thumbs by 18 to 20 thumbs of depth, at least for ordinary Fauteuils, that is to say, in public rooms. For those that serve in particular for a single person, one must, as I said above, consult that person’s taste and needs.
The size and the cut of wood for ordinary armchairs is nothing different from that of side chairs, if only in the case of cabriolets, the rails of the backs should be cut according to their tilt, or better said, their splay, which you can do by drawing the top and the bottom with some templates, of which you should have the curve on the plan, in backing them off [to the back] as necessary. What’s more, you could, without any type of loss, take the top and the bottom rails from the same piece of lumber, sawn as nestled patterns, which is very easy to do given that they are of different curves, such that the outside of one can be the inside of the other, at least pretty close.
There you have a bit of the detail of an armchair (and consequently of a cabriolet chair), after which one could construct all sorts of seats, of whatever form they be, given that the method that I just gave for the construction and manner of drawing it here is applicable to all with some minor differences. I have greatly expanded the manner of drawing, both the plan and the elevation, of these sorts of seats, so as to be within reach of the greatest number. They would have not understood me if I would not have been so expansive if I had simply said, as would seem completely natural, that the development of the backs of seats [of cabriolet arm chairs] is only being one part of the surface of a truncated cone, of which the incline is given by the back and is elongated just to its meeting of the center of the seat which represents the axis of the cone, which determines the crown and consequently the center of its development. This simplicity supposes of my readers (at least of ordinary Joiners) some knowledge which they cannot or do not want to acquire, whether I have given the elementary principles in the second part of this work, at the beginning of the Art of Drawing. That is why I believed it necessary, to be available to all, to make all demonstrations that appeared appropriate for saving time of those who would not acquire other knowledge than that of practice, which, for as little as is reasonable, is barely sufficient in the part that I am treating.
What’s more, Chair Joiners do not take all the precautions that I recommend here for drawing the plan or elevation of their works, which [they do by] sawing as accurately as possible, and that they assemble without dressing them, for cutting them out later, after having assembled them, which they do badly. But finally it is their custom and they will not change from that easily.
Betty Scarpino at the workshop of her friend Suzanne Kahn.
Several weeks ago, John Scott, a woodworker friend and real-life brain surgeon, suggested that Betty Scarpino would make a good profile for this series. “Don’t know if you know Betty,” he wrote, “but I’ll place her for nomination in your series! She’s a fantastic woodturner in Indianapolis, with pieces in museums all over the country.”
As it happened, I did know of Betty; she’d been in my sights since the early ’90s, though we hadn’t met or even corresponded. Every so often I came across her name as a woodturner.
“Betty is super!” John wrote back, adding, “Susan and I have a couple of her pieces that we purchased from her when she had a small showing in her house many years ago, before she was represented in galleries. I almost choke when I see what her pieces sell for now!”
I was interested in Betty not only as a highly skilled woodworker, but also as a woman who has been practicing her craft for decades while raising two sons, for some of that time as a single mother. But what really got me hooked was her surprising statement that while she’s best known for turning, her great love is carving.
“Gentle Impressions.”
We spoke on a Saturday morning in March. Betty was in her garden in Indianapolis with Diesel, her son Dan’s chocolate Labrador, who’s under her care while Dan hikes the Arizona National Scenic Trail. With springtime birdsong in the background, she told me she was getting ready to deliver a work titled Gentle Impressions to the Indiana Artists Club exhibition at Newfields (formerly the Indianapolis Museum of Art) later in the day. The juried show had serious spatial limitations, which made it a challenge to decide which piece to submit. Betty’s small sculpture was awarded second place by the jury.
Betty has shown her work in many galleries around the country. A quick look at her website reveals an eye-popping list of museums that hold her work in their permanent collections, among them the Renwick Gallery, the Yale University Art Museum, the Los Angeles County Art Museum, Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts, the Peabody Essex Museum and Philadelphia’s Center for Art in Wood – an impressive achievement for an artist. No wonder her work is valued more highly today than it was early in her career. Until the last 10 years, Betty was far better known at the national level than in her adopted state of Indiana.
“Slow Dance,” 2020. Maple.
Early Life
Baby Betty with her mother.
The second of four sisters, Betty was born in Wenatchee, Wash., in 1949. Her mother worked at home full-time; her father was an entrepreneur who ran a pawn brokerage and sold sporting goods through stores in southern Idaho and Kalispell, Mont. Because her family moved often, she describes where she grew up as no single location, but “all over the Pacific Northwest.” She attended five different schools in third grade alone; by the time her parents celebrated the 25th anniversary of their marriage, they had moved their family 25 times.
Betty’s older sister, Cindy, her mother, sister Barbara, father, Betty and Carol in 1959.
Betty married Phil Scarpino in 1971. Having spent two years in the army during the 1970s, Phil jumped at the opportunity to attend graduate school. They were living in Columbia, Missouri, where Betty worked full-time as a computer operator and was also training to program computers.
Phil’s evenings were always busy with school, so Betty decided to enroll in a night class. The only one available was woodworking; she signed up. Soon, she was so taken with the work that she quit her job to attend classes full-time. She graduated in 1982 with a degree in industrial arts, the curriculum for which included training in furniture making and the use of woodworking machinery. She had basic instruction on the lathe, turning a bowl and the pedestal for a table, but after that, she learned by doing.
Betty and Phil in Montana, 1970.
During her time in college, Betty also took classes in the art department. She wanted to carve wood sculptures. After graduation, she considered renting a shop where she could build furniture, but soon discovered that renting a workspace would not be practical, especially after she had her first son, Sam, at the age of 34. So instead of investing in a shop, she bought a lathe. The American Association of Woodturners had started up in 1986, “a vibrant, active, inclusive organization that it was really easy to plug into,” she says. Betty edited their journal from 1990-1993, then started to make more of her own pieces, and quickly became known in the turning field.
One of Betty’s first turnings was the pedestal of this table, which she made as a student in 1980.
Phil is a faculty member at Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis in American history and historic preservation. His job brought them to Indianapolis in 1986; their second son, Dan, was born there.
After Betty and Phil divorced in 2000, Betty continued to piece together an income from a variety of sources. She sold her turnings; she wrote a regular column about turning for Woodworker’s Journal for three years; for six years she was editor of theAmerican Woodturner Journal. She also made money – good money – from turning demonstrations and teaching, and has taught at Arrowmont and Anderson Ranch, to name just a couple well-regarded schools.
What Does ‘Round’ Mean?
“I just made regular bowls to start with, like everybody else,” Betty says. But before long, she began to adorn her bowls with carving. Her sculpting instructor at the University of Missouri had had a lathe in the back room of the art department; she talked with him about using the lathe to make sculpture. “I was 25 when I first went to an art museum!” she says. “I knew nothing.” Her instructor had always said, “’Round objects turned on a lathe are not interesting,’” so in her curious, boundary-pushing way, Betty decided to explore “the vast potential of what resides within ‘round’ objects,” in part by “deconstructing lathe-turned objects.” She’d turn a disc, cut it apart, do a bit of carving and explore what lay beneath the surface. She also appreciates the metaphorical dimensions of this technique, comparing the process of exploration and refinement to that of what some might call soul work. “We’re always working on ourselves, our lives,” she says. “My sculpture’s like that. I turn a disc, then cut it apart, then reconstruct that in a way that’s lifelike and energizing and satisfying.”
“A Touch of Grace.” 2020. Maple, walnut, acrylic paint.
Making a Living as an Artist
Collectors of art in wood were key to Betty’s livelihood and creative development in the 1990s and aughts. “As soon as I made something, it sold,” she says. Betty increasingly worked on sculptures that had nothing to do with turning. “That’s really where my interest has been all along,” she points out. “Until then, I never had the opportunity to explore that kind of work fully. When you have 20 people buying things because they’re turned… I just plugged into that and made money. I enjoyed it. That’s why I ended up becoming known as a woodturner when really that’s not my main interest.”
Betty (second from left) with Suzanne Kahn, Merryll Saylan, Betty’s son Sam and Sam’s wife, Laura, in Philadelphia, 2018.
Considering that her main interest is carving, it comes as a surprise to hear she didn’t study it at university. Her knowledge about the field was far more basic: “I knew that you used a gouge and a mallet.” Betty leapt right in, learning along the way. Today she carves primarily with power tools and generally prefers reciprocating tools to rotary carvers, “because I can find the line better,” she says. Her favorite is an Automach reciprocating carver; she also uses Arbortech tools.
Betty has been through some real twists and turns as she has worked to support herself as a woodturner and sculptor. “Galleries used to exist,” she says bluntly, alluding to the devastating effects on brick-and-mortar-based businesses due to the Great Recession, and more recently, the COVID-19 pandemic. She used to be associated with several galleries that sold artists’ work around the country, but many have closed. Today, exhibits such as the one at Newfields provide visibility. She uses her website to sell existing works and garner new commissions. She also appreciates the value of plain old word-of-mouth. “Along the way, I have had two very generous women patrons who have helped me,” she says. The broader woodworking field has benefited from the Windgate Foundation, which supports the teaching of craft and art in many ways, such as donations to the Center for Art in Wood, a new dorm at Arrowmont School for Arts and Crafts and support of woodturning at the Herron School of Art in Indianapolis.
Although Betty’s work is held by prestigious museums, many sculptures spend much of their time in storage and are only brought out for exhibit in the occasional show. Betty’s work is labor-intensive, so her limited output constrains marketing through galleries.
“If you’re a craftsperson you can market your work in a craft store or sell it online. There are also craft fairs, etsy, etc. But my work doesn’t sell well in those venues,” says Betty. Today, her work ranges in price from $3,000 to $12,000 – art-world prices that demand a specific marketing niche or connecting with just the right buyer.
Retirement is not on Betty’s radar. She intends to be carving a sculpture on the day she dies. Now that she has the time and resources to devote to carving, without having to worry about sales, she is excited to see her work evolving to in-the-round sculpture. Betty has come full circle to her first love: carving wood.
Sam, Betty and Dan on Betty’s 70th birthday.
Betty (second from left) with her sisters on her 70th birthday.
The proofs for “Make a Chair from a Tree” arrived this morning; it should be in the store and available in about eight weeks.
William Shakespeare is credited with the invention of 1,700 words (or at least his plays are the first known printed use thereof). Jennie Alexander can be credited with just a few less – and we even left some of them in the third edition of “Make a Chair from a Tree” (if their meanings could be easily gleaned from context). Below are just a handful of the interesting neologisms she coined and a few actual (but rarely used) words and phrases she uttered (and wrote) on a regular basis. Who knows? Maybe in 450 years, everyone will be saying “dingus” instead of “fixture.”
Baby Jerome (n.) Someone who crawls under the furniture (to look at joinery).
clacker (n.) A depth stop made from a chopstick that attaches to a drill bit shaft. It clacks when it hits the work.
clean-out chisel (n.) A chisel with a curve or angle at the bottom for cleaning out a mortise (like a gooseneck chisel, but shop-made).
dingus (n.). Any shop-made jig that gets used over and again. For example, the IYFLL (see below) is a dingus.
dotter (n). A thin stick with screws through it, used to simultaneously mark all mortise locations (or mark whatever you’ve laid out with said screws). Conscripted from the turning world.
furshlugginer (adj.) A piece of junk.
GABG (n.) The Glowing Acrylic Bevel Gauge. A dingus made from green acrylic. Used in sighting legs to the proper angle.
gixerdee (adj.) Something that’s out of truth – synonym for cattywampus (which she used interchangeably with gixerdee).
Goldilocksing (adj.), Choosing the best compromise between alternatives, such as the size of a rung mortise.
IYFLL (n). In Your Face Line Level. A dingus that hooks onto a drill-bit extender to help you keep the bit level.
knocker-docker (n.) a wooden mallet.
Miss Moist-Bone Dry (n.) One of many Jennie’s many pseudonyms.
Mouldy figs (n.) People who listen to early Jazz; Jennie (who was a jazz musician) appropriated it as a term for hand-tool purists.
ovality (n.) The quality of being oval.
spruck (n.) The sound a piercer or spoon bit makes while tearing up the wood fibers as it makes its way around a hole.
truncadon (n.) The remainder of a billet after the sapwood and bark has been rived from it – i.e. it has been truncated into its useful wood.
toothy critters (n.) A metal planing stop with sharp teeth.
— Fitz
p.s. Anyone who spent time with Jennie has more to add – above are the just the words/phrases that Larry Barrett, Peter Follansbee, Christopher Schwarz and I could jot down off the top of our heads. So if you have others, please add them in the comments!
A “knocker-docker” in Jennie’s hand. (Photo by Harper Burke)
Dressing Tables are nothing else but ordinary Tables [where] the corners are rounded and around the perimeter you add some ledges of about 3 to 4 thumbs in height and you cover it with muslin or lace, according to the wish or the opulence of those using it. We make use of other small Tables that are portable which contain all [things] which serve the grooming of Women, like the mirror, the powder box, pomades, flasks appropriate for applying perfume and other ingredients of this type, which are put on ordinary dressing Tables.
The small dressing Tables represented in Figs. 1 & 2 are composed of a base and a top, which is divided into three parts in width, namely that in the middle, which holds a mirror and opens vertically, and those on the two sides, which cover two boxes, which fall back at both sides of the Table. Beneath the mirror, that is to say, in the middle of the apron rail is placed a little writing Table about a foot wide which slides horizontally. You pull it out when you wish to use it. Below this writing Table and its two side boxes are placed three ordinary drawers of which the depth, added to that of the side boxes, is normally 6 thumbs; [specifically 3 thumbs at least for the side boxes], and the rest for the drawer and the crossbar that holds it. This reduces the depth of the drawers below the side boxes to very little, truthfully. But it is not possible to take advantage of this given that the knees of the person seated before this Table must fit easily beneath the cross-piece [rail] that holds the drawers. See Fig. 3, which represents the side view of this dressing Table taken from the middle of its length, and Fig. 4, which represents another view taken at the location of a side box, which is filled in with a second box fitted with its cover on top. See Fig. 5, which represents the Table viewed from the top and completely closed, and at Fig. 6, which represents this same Table completely uncovered.
The construction of these types of Tables is nothing special [except] the opening on top, the area that holds and supports the mirror, which is done in the following manner:
You make a groove in the two separations of the Table in which you insert a cross-piece AA, Fig. 7, by which you [open and close on a hinge] the part of the Table that holds the mirror and the exterior ridge that is beveled to give the mirror the tilt that is necessary. When you wish to make use of the latter, you pull it from the front to release it from the bottom of part B, which remains in place. You pull it out and you bring it as close to the front of the Table as you judge to be appropriate, making the cross-piece A run inside the grooves of the sides, as you can see in this Figure.
The two other parts of the top are attached on the aprons of the ends of the Table. You should take care to extend over the center or knuckle of the hinges by an equal distance to the projection of the top so that the latter can fully fold over toward the outside. See Fig. 8. The two sides of the top are closed with a lock in the dividers/separations of the Table and they hold the middle part by means of two pins [handles], a, b, Fig. 2, attached below and at the two sides of the latter.
Other dressing Tables are made totally different from those that I just described, either in general form or in the manner of making them open. But these differences are of little consequence. What’s more, those that I just described are the most convenient and are the most used.
I said up above that we make some writing Tables a bit similar to dressing Tables. These Tables do not differ from the latter except by their opening of the middle part, which folds into three parts, namely that of the rear, which remains in place, like those of the dressing Tables; that of the middle a, b, Fig. 9, which you lift in the form of a lectern; and another small part b, c, of about 2 thumbs in width, which is fitted with the middle part, such that when making this latter move around point d, where it is fastened to the Table, part b, c lifts and serves as the ledge of the lectern. You hold it up by means of a little frame support e, f, which you fold beneath the lectern when you do not wish to use it any more.
The night Tables represented in Figs. 10, 11 & 12 are composed of four legs and of two shelves, one of which is placed at about 18 thumbs high and the other at 26 thumbs at least, on top of which you protrude the legs and the three sides to hold whatever you put on these Tables, which you place next to beds and you use only in the night or in the case of sickness. Underneath the first shelf, that is to say, the lowest, you place a drawer of about 2 thumbs deep, which you make open by the right side of the Table with which it is level/flush. The three sides that surround the space contained between the two shelves of the night Table, are normally pierced [ventilated] so that they diminish all the odor that is possible. We sometimes put there some very thin marble shelves, at least on the top one, which is a very good usage given that the marble is not subject, like wood, to warping with the moisture to which these sorts of Tables are exposed, nor to absorbing any bad odor. See Figs. 10 & 11, which represent a night Table viewed from the side and the front. And Fig. 12, which represent this same Table viewed from the top, which is, I believe, sufficient to show all the necessary theory for this sort of work.
In general, these sorts of Tables are not likely to have any type of ornament. It suffices that they be neat and especially lightweight to be easier to transport. That is why a thumb-and-a-half suffices for the size of the legs, where you make the curve/corner contour connecting the side to the back and only chamfer inside, so that the little wood which remains serves to hold [support] the shelf of the top. However, it is good to make this enter by tongue and groove into the sides so as to prevent any warping. You should pay the same attention for the base, which, like that of the top and the sides of the Table, should be only 4 to 5 lines thickness at most. When you make marble shelves for the night Tables, it is good that they be supported underneath by another wooden shelf (although this is not the custom), which prevents their breaking, as often happens.
There is still an infinity of Tables for all spaces, shapes and sizes, the detail of which I will not enter into given that they are often nothing but the whim of the Workers or of those who use them. What’s more, these sorts of Tables differ little from those that I just described, of which the usage is the most generally received, and after which you could design them in whatever form you judge to be appropriate.
Before ending all that concerns Tables and generally furniture with simple frames, and consequently moving to the description of closed pieces [furniture with closing doors], I am going to give in Plate 267 various examples of ornate leg Tables, as I just announced in the article on table legs, page 697. I will end this chapter with a description of screens and folding screens of different types.
