Apologies for the following statement, but “The Woodworker: The Charles Hayward Years” is a gold mine of craft knowledge. Even though we were mired in the project for more than seven years (and I should despise it), the finished books are incredibly useful in my everyday work.
Yesterday proved that point. You might remember this blog entry where I reprinted a 1964 article on making a staked stool that was one of the thousands of articles we sorted through for our two-volume set.
In that article, S.H. Glenister recommended boring mortises for a staked stool before shaping the legs. This is exactly how I work with square mortise-and-tenon projects, but is the opposite of how I work when building post-and-rung assemblies with round tenons and mortises.
I can’t say why it never occurred to me to bore the round mortises first when the stock was square. Just a brain defect, I guess.
So when making the post-and-rung base for a new design for a chest of drawers, I followed Mr. Glenister’s advice. It worked brilliantly and everything turned out perfectly square and centered with little fuss.
The only hiccup was when turning the mortised bits. You need to lighten up your pressure on the tool as you pass the tool by the mortises. I didn’t have any of them catch, but if you use consistent pressure the areas around your mortises will end up a little skinnier.
Give it a try next time.
By the way, we are hard at work at designing the next two volumes of “The Woodworker.” Vol. III on joinery is now completely designed and needs only a final edit. Meghan, the designer, is now laying out Vol. IV, which is on the workshop and furniture. There is still a lot of work ahead, but we are plowing forward.
The mallet is one of those tools whose shape and form we accept without question until an alternative is brought to our attention. In the opinion of many who have used both types, the German pattern is preferable to the generally accepted British mallet.
The designers of the latter went to great pains to make the tapered shaft in order that centrifugal force should tighten the head in use. The continental designers decided that what is good enough for a hammer head is good enough for a mallet head. Possibly in England in earlier days the general carpenter or cabinet maker had no access to a lathe and so evolved this type of mallet. The German pattern, however, relies upon a bored hole, a turned handle, glue, and wedge.
As most readers already possess a mallet, two alternative sizes are given. The first figures produce an average sized mallet suitable for general work. The figures in brackets are for a lighter model. Mallet shafts are invariably too long. Many workers will prefer a shaft as short as 7-1∕2 in. (compare with the carver’s mallet, handle length about 5 in.). Though beech is the traditional wood for the head, other hardwoods, both British and imported, will give many years of wear. Oak and ash are both suitable. The handle on the other hand ought to be of straight-grained ash, or better still, hickory.
The head is made first, the angles sawn and the hole bored. Preferably a pilot hole of about 1∕8 in. diameter is put through first, boring from both sides. The twist bit will then follow through easily. Bore a similar hole in a piece of thin ply and thread this on the tail centre of the lathe.
Elevations With Alternate Sizes – A. 5 in. (4-3/8 in.) B. 3-1/2 in. (3-3/16 in.) C. 2-5/8 in. (2-1/4 in.) D. 5/16 in. (1/4 in.) E. 1-3/8 in. (1-3/16 in.) F. 8-3/4 in. (8-3/8 in.) G. 1 in. (7/8 in.) H. 15/16 in. dia. (7/8 in. dia.)
Centre the handle, still rectangular in section, and turn down the end nearest the tail stock to fit the plywood gauge tightly. An extra length of 1∕8 in. should be allowed to project beyond the head. The remainder of the handle is then turned to shape with gouge followed by chisel, a rather bumpy operation, but a good finish can be obtained with no great difficulty. The smallest shoulder should be turned on the shaft to fit against the head. Before cutting off a little individual embellishment may be added. This is particularly useful in a communal workshop where several such mallets may be used.
Slot the handle for the wedge or wedges which are made from the waste at the driving centre end. Open out the mortise either for two wedges with a tapered auger such as ladder makers use, or for one wedge with a suitable gouge or a small rasp to give an oval hole on top. Glue preferably with synthetic resin glue. Cramp up with a sash cramp. The plywood gauge is a useful cramping block to allow pressure to be exerted on the head after the shaft has poked through it. Now hold the shaft upright in the vice and check that the head is parallel to the vice jaw. This must be corrected quickly if required. Drive in the wedge or wedges and recramp until dry.
Plane off the projecting wedges and the handle. The top may be left square as it now is,or it can be curved as the drawing shows. The shaper tool produces this shape easily and quickly with a good surface.
A small bevel on all the edges prevents splitting and a coat of clear cellulose or french polish keeps grubbiness at bay.
We’ve had several questions from readers about this. Why do some people strop and some people don’t? Should we all be stropping? Is stropping outdated? Is it fayrie majik?
Stropping is simple. It’s the polishing of an edge with an abrasive that’s about 1 micron in size. Nothing more.
It’s the same as polishing an edge with a Japanese waterstone that is about #8,000 grit or #10,000 grit. Those stones have an abrasive particle that’s in the neighborhood of 1 micron in size.
(Don’t believe me? Here you can see the Lee Valley Honing Compound is rated for 0.5 micron. And here you can see a Shapton #30,000 grit stone is rated at 0.49 micron. In my experience, neither does a particularly better job than a 1 micron or 1.5 micron surface. Why? Because of the real world.)
So if you sharpen to #10,000 grit and then strop, I would argue that you are doing no harm, but you probably aren’t helping things much – other than extending your break from real work.
Why does stropping exist?
Until the introduction of fine waterstones, natural sharpening stones, such as oilstones, couldn’t polish an edge past a certain point – about #4,000 grit was typical (using the Japanese waterstone system for comparison). So the strop was the way to get the extra polish that makes the edge last a little longer.
Though I use Japanese waterstones a lot, I also have a strop. Why? For carving. With carving tools, I am constantly touching up the edge with a strop to keep the bevel shiny, smooth and keen. (Stoning odd shapes is a drag, so I try to put it off as long as possible.) A strop is an easier way to do this than having a wet waterstone at the bench. Also, a flexible piece of leather charged with honing compound makes it easy to polish up gouges and the like.
So strop. Or don’t. Just know that it’s part of a Western tool tradition and makes total sense with oilstones. With Japanese waterstones, the strop might be superfluous.
A lot depends on the way we face up to experience. We can’t dodge it. We are all conscripts in the hands of destiny, and when destiny gives its marching orders we have to follow where it leads.
Men who long for peace are called to war, or they are barred by circumstances from following some work or profession on which their hearts are set. But because man is what Emerson calls “a golden impossibility” we still retain that liberty of spirit which gives us the last word.
A man may take experience like a sleep-walker, hardly conscious of the world outside himself, or he may skim it superficially and gain enough from it for his immediate ends, or he may take hold of it, use his eyes, his intelligence, his reason on it, so that out of it he wrests something that will remain with him like a finely tempered tool giving precision, certainty and drive to his actions. And with such a tool he begins to shape at last the destiny which began by shaping him – one of the things that it is good for us to remember when life is taking many into strange paths.
To quote a 17th century follower of Galen: “they who cultivate the good seeds which nature have set in them, prove not shrubs but Cedars in their generation. And to be in the form of the best of the Bad or the worst of the Good will be no satisfaction to them.”
The books arrived in our warehouse yesterday. John is preparing all the shipping labels, and the warehouse employees are preparing for an assembly-line packing process. They plan to have all books in the mail by Thursday, March 10. After that, it’s in the hands of the carrier.
If you have a problem with any Lost Art Press order, feel free to send an email to help@lostartpress.com. If you are trying to find out the status of your order for these books, the above update is all we can tell you right now.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. Most of the books ordered by our retailers left the docks at the printer at the same time ours did. We have no way of knowing when the book will arrive at Lee Valley, Lie-Nielsen, Highland Hardware or any of our other retailers I’m afraid. Nor do we know when they will begin shipping.
John has been inundated with customer emails asking when their copy of “