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Category: The Essential Woodworker

‘The Essential Woodworker’ ePub Edition

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You can now download the ePub edition of “The Essential Woodworker” by Robert Wearing in a completely DRM-free format for your iPad, iPhone or other electronic reader that supports .epub files.

Click here to visit our store and purchase the ePub edition for $10.

A Kindle edition of “The Essential Woodworker” is in the works and will be released shortly.

The ePub version of the book follows the format and layout of “The Essential Woodworker” version published by Lost Art Press. We reset the entire book in a classic typeface, incorporated changes from Mr. Wearing and laid out the book in a classic 6” x 9” format.

This is an authorized reprint by Mr. Wearing. With every purchase of the electronic or physical version of the Lost Art Press book, significant royalties go to Mr. Wearing.

In our opinion, “The Essential Woodworker” is one of the best books on hand-tool usage written in the post-Charles Hayward era. Wearing was classically trained in England as a woodworker and embraced both power and hand tools in his shop and in his teaching.

The book “The Essential Woodworker” was written to remedy the lack of fundamental hand-tool knowledge in the post-World War II woodworker. While Wearing discusses basics such as sharpening and tool use in the book, the true genius of the book is in how Wearing shows you how to apply all the tools and processes to actually build things.

He begins with a table. As you read the chapter on building a table, Wearing connects the dots for the hand-tool user by showing how all the tools are used in concert to produce accurate work. It’s not just about sawing a tenon or planing an edge. Instead, it is about how to gather these skills and apply them to building furniture – tables, doors, carcases, dovetailed drawers, plinths etc.

The book is filled with more than 500 hand-drawn illustrations by Wearing that explain every operation in a hand-tool shop. His illustrations are properly drafted, drawn in perspective and masterfully clear.

For a tutorial on how to manually add a book to your iPod or iPhone, view this tutorial on our blog. It’s easy.

— Christopher Schwarz

Make a Table or Stool Part 2: Marking Out the Joints

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Fig. 95a
Fig 95a and 95b. Mortice and tenon joint. In a basic stool or table, two rails are joined into the top of each leg by means of a mortice and tenon joint. Either the legs or rails may be marked out first. In this construction, the rails are marked out.

In a table or stool construction either the legs or the rails may be marked out first. This example starts with the rails. Cramp together the long and short pairs, with true faces out and true edges down. Mark each end with a knife and square (Fig 96). Then uncramp the pairs, square round the lines (Fig 97), and carefully saw off the waste. It is important to saw this cleanly in order to be able to gauge nicely on the end later. First gauge the set-in, at about 3mm (1/8in.), and then the haunch (Fig 98). The set-in is purely cosmetic, to conceal any irregularity in the joint.

Fig. 96

Fig. 98

The haunch provides a bridge at the top of the leg, helping to prevent the mortice splitting and at the same time, by its added width to the tenon, reducing the possibility of the rail twisting in the leg. The haunch should be about a quarter of the tenon width. Some writers will say a third but this seems to reduce the tenon too much.

To mark out the legs, put them together with the faces and edges as shown (Fig 99) then turn them over and mark them on a blank face. Mark the total length, leaving some waste (which should be shaded) at each end. The waste must be about 20mm (3/4in.) at the top or jointed end.

Fig. 99
Figs. 100-101

Offer up the rail, and from it mark the haunch, set-in and rail width (Fig 100), square these across and uncramp. Square these lines onto the other blank face. The total length lines are squared right round (Fig 101).

The thickness of a tenon is normally about one third of the rail thickness. It is not taken from measurement but is the size of the nearest available chisel to this size. The traditional hand mortice chisels vary considerably from the nominal size. Machine chisels are quite accurate and are now becoming metric. Hand mortice chisels are much thicker than the common firmer or bench chisel (Fig 102), which is very liable to break when levering. The extra thickness of the mortice chisel is also a help in preventing it from twisting.

Set the mortice gauge carefully to the chisel (Fig 103) then set to its position on the rail, commonly central. Without changing the setting, mark out the mortices on the legs (Fig 104), gauging from the true face and the true edge. Mark the tenons similarly, gauging from the true face.

Beginners will find it helpful later on, when sawing the tenons, if a thick, soft pencil is run in the gauge marks. This produces a double pencil mark (Fig 105). The waste should be very clearly marked with pencil, generally by diagonal shading. (The method adopted in the illustrations is to avoid confusion with the end grain, and is not typical.)

Note: It is a good idea to number the joints to avoid confusion. This should be done on parts not involved in the cleaning-up process.

— Robert Wearing, from Chapter 2 of “The Essential Woodworker”

Fig. 102
Fig. 103
Fig. 104
Fig. 105

Make a Table or Stool: Part 1

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Design brief: Before commencing on any design other than a copy a design brief must be prepared. A design brief is a collection of all the data relevant to the construction and use of the article and the design is based on this information. The brief can best be produced by writing down as many questions as possible about the job, and then by experiment, research, measurement or judgment, find the answers to these questions. For example, questions about a coffee table might include the following:

Where will it be used?
Who will use it?
How many people will use it?
What will it carry?
How will people sit at it?
What will be its top shape?
How high will it be?
What will be its basic constructional form?
What will be the finish?
What wood is preferred or is available?
Will the top have any special finish?
Will a shelf or rack be required?

Design sketch
The answers to these practical questions will give the worker the length, the width and the height required. From these three figures a number of design sketches may be produced and the best one selected (Fig 90, for example).

Working drawing
From the design sketch it will now be possible to build up a working drawing. For items of coffee-table size a full-sized drawing is an advantage; larger items must of course be drawn to scale. These full-sized drawings can be drawn on decorator’s ‘lining’ (ceiling) paper. Before making a start the following table of ‘finished sizes’ should be consulted (Fig 91).

The sawn sizes are those used by the timber yards when sawing logs into boards. The finished sizes are those to which the sawn boards can be planed, either by hand or by machine. This figure is both the maximum which can be obtained from the sawn board and also the size marketed as a planed board. In planning component sizes these sizes should be kept in mind in order to use wood with the greatest economy. A reduction of thickness of 1mm (1/16in.) may afford a considerable cost saving.

The working drawing (side view) (Fig 92) is built up as follows. Draw the ground line (A) then draw the top of the table (B). Consult the finished sizes and draw in the top thickness (C). Mark this off to length (D). Consider the overhang and draw in the outside edge of the legs (E). Consult the finished sizes again and draw in the leg thickness (F). The top rail (G) is drawn in next, wide enough to give a good joint but not wastefully wide. This can be made narrower if the extra support of a stretcher rail is given. The end (width) view can be similarly drawn. To save space this can be superimposed on the front view (shaded area).

When a proper mortice and tenon construction is to be used (as in this example) the length of the tenon must now be ascertained. This is easily done (Fig 93) by making a full-sized drawing on graph paper. Finally the inside edges of the legs can be tapered below the joint. This design retains the simplicity of an all-right-angle construction.

To obviate frequent reference to a drawing in the early stages it is convenient to produce a cutting list (Fig 94) and to work solely from this in the early stages.

Finished (i.e. final) sizes are used in the list, which avoids allowances being added at several stages in the work. Unfortunately, although there are only three dimensions there are many more names for them, e.g. length, height, width, depth, broad, thick, and so on. The three to be used are length (the distance along the grain), thickness (the smallest dimension) and width (the intermediate size). Width and thickness are often the same size.

To avoid confusion components are often lettered, as in the first column. The remaining columns are self-explanatory except for the blank one. A tick here signifies that the component has been sawn out. A cross tells that the piece has been produced to size and is ready for marking out.

— Robert Wearing, from Chapter 2 of “The Essential Woodworker”

They Will Make a Craftsman Out of You

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Editor’s note: The following account was written by Robert Wearing, the author of “The Essential Woodworker,” which is one of the best modern books on handwork. Period. End of story. In this entry, Wearing recounts his woodworking training after World War II and his connection to Edward Barsnley. “The Essential Woodworker” is available in our store for $23 plus shipping.

— Christopher Schwarz

After World War II, the British government offered to ex service personnel a Further Education and Training grant for those whose training had been interrupted by the war. Mine had not been but an exception made in the case of teaching. There was an acute shortage, since many teachers had been killed and young men were conscripted before they could go to college.

Wondering what to do with my life after being demobbed from the forces I made a visit to my old school. My old headmaster, looking through my old reports said, “You excelled in woodwork. Why not consider craft teaching?”

He sent me to see one of his craft teachers who said, “Go to Loughborough, nowhere else. They will make a craftsman of you.” So I applied.

I was sent a drawing to make and bring. It was a teapot stand, a rather elaborately jointed mitred frame, holding a 6” x 6″ ceramic tile. I made this in a little garden shed workshop with what tools I had and little knowledge and went for interview. It was accepted and I was in.

Before arriving I was to make a dovetailed tool box to a standard design. Three boxes were fitted under each bench.

Loughborough College in those days was three-quarters engineers and one-quarter teachers, half of the teachers were craftsmen and half were physical education.

Almost the entire entry to the college at that time were soldiers, sailors or airmen. The college (now a university) had no experience of so many mature students, having only had schoolboy entrants before, but treated us very considerately, so we had no complaints.

Our first job, from a drawing supplied, was a small book rack in agba, an African hardwood. I still had that until my house and contents were sold.

Subjects studied in the first two years were Ancient and Medieval History, English Literature, Education (with teaching practice in schools) and teaching handicraft as it was then called, also Technical Drawing.

Nothing was very formally taught, we just got on, working to our approved drawings. A tutor wandered around and could be consulted. Each workshop also had a very competent cabinetmaker, who maintained the equipment. He was a mine of information and was always most helpful. That was Mr. Finch, who was always referred to as such. Nowadays he would be a technician of varying quality.

After the book rack I made a small side table with a drawer in mahogany. The principle on which the college ran was “Training on Production.” Contacts were made with industry and orders were taken and made.

The engineers, particularly the mechanical engineers, could do this; but the craftsman teachers on their own individual work, could not. So we made furniture for the library that was proposed when building and timber restrictions ended.

During the war and for several years after timber of all sorts was rationed and difficult to buy. We students often resorted to going to auction sales, hoping to buy a large dining table with extending leaves and massive rails. The large legs would be cut up for turning. Such a piece in Cuban mahogany was indeed a good buy. This made a paneled bookcase with sliding glass doors.

I found a source of of thick oak, being the bottom of railway wagons destroyed by bombing. For years they had carried coal, the dust from which was deeply embedded.

When I took some pieces to the college sawmill, I was rudely sent away to first plane off the top charred 1/4″ – by hand. The boss later relented and agreed to saw and thickness them as the last job before the saw and blades were sharpened. In fact it proved to be quite nice material, out of which I made several nice pieces in the garage of my hall of residence, including a small circular table, which I still have. Also a small wall hanging bureau. Having sold off the rest when I left college, I was not much out of pocket.

Handicraft students had to opt for woodwork or metalwork. After one year I and a fellow student were allowed to study both.

With regard to the tutors, they were all former Loughborough students with the exception of Cecil Gough who was a former foreman of Gordon Russell of Broadway, Gloucestershire, working similarly to the Cotswold School. He left when the firm went into manufacturing, no longer making single handmade items.

Russell designed the war-time Utility Furniture, which was well designed to make the best and most economical use of the timber in very short supply.

Ockenden, the head of the department, trained at Shoreditch College, who might be termed rivals of Loughborough for the top position.

Edward Barnsley, an outstanding designer craftsman with his own business in the New Forest, Hampshire, employing a few highly skilled men, gave a few lectures. He also discussed and advised on their designs with students. On his death a trust was set up to maintain his workshop as a high-quality training establishment.

There were very few machines in the workshops but there were machines of course in the sawmill. If you wanted 3/4″ material you planed it down with a jack plane, from 1″ boards. Strangely my workshops had a band saw. The cabinetmaker/technician seemed to spend a large part of his life sharpening this. There was a woodturning lathe, little used, but no circular saw. A small one would have eased our labours greatly, without lowering the quality.

My oak sideboard final project, planed from 1″ to 3/4″, was very heavy work which went on for a long time. There was a grindstone, which was pedal driven and very tedious and slow in operation, particularly when grinding the thick blades in wooden jack planes.

There were no “stock” projects. All the work was designed by students and advised by Edward Barnsley. The exception to this was the library furniture made as production work. This was designed by Barnsley.

Looking back to 1947-50 I do not see how the practical training could have been bettered. There is no training of this quality now in any college. Only in the Barnsley workshops.

Great days!

— Bob Wearing