Charles Reade has asserted that workmen are a dirty set and a reckless set. Is this true of American workmen? His observations have been confined to English workmen; would he have occasion to modify the general character of his statement were he to visit and inspect American shops?
Candidly we must say there would be too much in the general want of cleanliness and order in our workshops to justify the assertion. The shops in which cleanliness and order prevail are rather the exception than the rule; and the individual workman who, in the midst of all the carelessness which prevails in this regard, maintains a scrupulous care for personal cleanliness, order in the arrangement of tools, and method in the performance of his work, may be regarded as a rising man. (more…)
In 1838 I was 14 years of age, and then in the wilds of Maine. My father lived four miles from the city of Bangor, and his farm, then nearly all covered with forest trees, bordered on the banks of the Penobscot, a stream with many old-style sash saw mills, all run by water power. My father’s land was well covered with fine timber. The rift timber my father would fall, and with a cross-cut saw we made it into blocks, which we hauled into a back shed, where we split it into shingles with a froe, then with shingle-horse and drawing-knife my father shaved the shingles smooth. My own business then was to rive (that is, split) the bolts up for shingles, and keep up a light by throwing shavings on the fire in the old fireplace.
About two bunches was a good evening’s work for winter. I also bunched the shingles ready for the market. Each bunch was 22 inches wide, 22 courses high, and four of these bunches made 1,000 shingles. These we hauled to market and sold for about $2 per thousand. In the other room my mother was either spinning wool on the large wheel, or weaving wool cloth on the old loom that set up in one corner of the room, or on her little wheel for spinning flax, the sound of which, whiz, whiz, whiz! I imagine hearing to this day. Then there was the old fireplace with the andirons and the rock maple or yellow birch back logs. With these good-sized back logs, a fore-stick, and wood piled on to make a roaring fire, here were my happiest days. (more…)
If you are interested in some of the staked furniture I’ve been building, such as this three-legged backstool, or in making a Roorkee chair, here are the joinery tools I use.
I make no apologies for these tools. I need stuff that is durable, not only because I use it all the time but so do my students. So it has to be monkey-proof. Also, you’ll notice that I use reaming equipment with a 12° included angle. The world of chairmakers is split on what angle is best. I have found both work fine. So that’s my answer to the question: “What do you think about 6°?”
Wood Owl Auger Bits About two years ago I switched to Wood Owl Ultra Smooth Augers after working for years with vintage augers. These Japanese-made bits are the best I’ve ever found. They cut fast and clean, and they clear chips with ease. Plus you can get them sized by 16ths. Yes, they are technically metric. No, it doesn’t technically matter.
I use the 5/8” Wood Owl in a brace to bore the initial hole for the mortise. It’s $15.95 from Traditional Woodworker.
Large Veritas Standard Tapered Reamer This Canadian-made reamer works incredibly well in a brace, corded drill or drill press. That’s why I prefer it to Veritas’s professional reamer, which can be used only in a brace. I’ll get about a dozen chairs out of an edge before I need to stone the edge, which I do with a diamond paddle.
My only gripe about the tool is it doesn’t have to be this long – I plan to grind off the first 3/8” of the reamer for my work.
I usually drive this reamer with a heavy-duty corded drill. My second choice is using it in a brace.
Vesper Sliding Bevel I have an incurable case of Chris Vesper Fever. He is one of the best two or three living toolmakers I’ve ever met. His stuff has the precision of Karl Holtey – and I can afford it on my salary. I use the small one for chairmaking and staked furniture because I can sneak it right up next to the auger bit or reamer. The blade of a large bevel can get in the way during these operations.
Warning: Once you buy one of his tools, you will likely buy more.
Veritas 5/8” Tapered Tenon Cutter This is the matching tenon cutter to the reamer above. It works like a giant pencil sharpener. Simply shave (or turn) your tenon near to its finished size. Then take it for a spin in the tenon cutter and you will have a tenon that perfectly matches the tapered mortise.
The blade is easy to remove and sharpen – it’s about the size of a spokeshave blade.
These tools – or their equivalent – will get you started making almost anything with a tapered, back-wedged joint. As Master Kenobi said: “You’ve just taken the first steps into a larger world.”
After three straight months of editing and writing during all waking (and drinking) hours, I was starting to wake up sore in the morning. Not the “I can’t look my spouse in the eye after last night’s weird” sore. It was the kind of soreness from my muscles dying.
Sitting all day. Typing all day. Processing photos all day. By Sunday morning I felt like a recovering coma patient.
So today I shoved aside all the clackety-clack and dove into the next project for “The Furniture of Necessity” – a staked dining table. I have been designing this thing on paper and in my head for months now. It’s such a nutty but perfect thing that I’ve been saving it like a tasty morsel buried in the backyard.
I was going to make the entire thing out of yellow pine. But after a stop at the lumberyard this morning I noticed the employees were restocking the hard maple rack. There I found a clear white board with amazingly straight grain.
After six hours of work I roughed out the six (six?) legs for this table, got them into octagons and then tapered them with a handplane. Tomorrow I expect to be sore in new places.
But at least sitting down tonight feels good – like it should.
