…because it has six sides, instead of our puny three. No, no, I kid.
Let’s back up for a second for those who don’t know much about the “cabinetmaker’s triangle” shown above in plate 18 from A.J. Roubo’s “L’Art du Menuisier.” The triangle is scrawled on almost all assemblies so that we can immediately orient our pieces when we glue them together.
The triangle trumps all the crazy “AA, BB” and numbering systems I’ve seen and used. The triangle is simpler and almost foolproof.
So why is the French triangle better that a plain equilateral triangle? It is even more foolproof than a plain triangle. With a plain triangle that is marked on the edges of assemblies – think dovetailed drawer – there are times when a part of a triangle can look like the mark for a “true edge” – sometimes called the “carat.”
You cannot make that mistake if you use a French triangle. The loops at the base prevent it from looking like a carat. And the fourth line to the apex prevents it from looking like a carat at the tip.
Plus, chicks dig it.
I’ve been using the French triangle for about a month in my shop. When Megan Fitzpatrick, executive editor from Popular Woodworking Magazine, stopped by to drop off some lumber she saw the French triangle on a panel and said: “Oh, pretty!”
Here is our Christmas/holiday present to you, our readers – a fully produced version of the “Irish Joiner,” a fun 1825 tune about how all professions are similar to woodworking.
The “Irish Joiner” was brought to life by woodworker Dan Miller who performed the vocals, octave mandolin and Irish whistle. He is accompanied by Peter Connolly on the Irish whistle, guitar and Irish drum. If you like the “Irish Joiner,” I think you’ll like Dan and Peter’s CD “A Parcel of Rogues,” from their group, Finagle. Check it out here on Amazon.
The original score was dug up by (who else) Jeff Burks, who found it featured in the play “The Shepherd of Derwent Vale; Or, The Innocent Culprit: a Traditionary Drama, in Two Acts, Adapted (and Augmented) from the French by Joseph Lunn.” Read the entire play here.
Rooney O’Chisel, the Irish joiner, is a supporting character in this tale of two brothers and treachery. He’s a joiner who was robbed of his business and then becomes a jailer.
You can download the mp3 using the link below. Then you can add it to iTunes, an mp3 player or just double-click so it will play on your computer. I think it’s a perfect piece of shop music, and I am pondering a sing-along at the next woodworking event I attend.
Thanks to everyone involved in this project. I hope you enjoy the song, and you whistle it on your way to work.
— Christopher Schwarz
Irish Joiner
I’m a joiner by trade, and O’Chisel’s my name;
From the sod, to make shavings and money I came:
But myself I was never consarning
‘Bout the lessons of schools;
For my own chest of tools
And my shop were a college for larning.
For by cutting, contriving,
And boring, and driving,
Each larned profession gains bread;
And they’re sure to succeed,
If they only take heed
To strike the right nail on the head.
Whack! whack! hubbaboo, gramachree;
All the dons in the nation are joiners like me.
Whack! whack! hubbaboo, gramachree;
All the dons in the nation are joiners like me.
The lawyers, like carpenters, work on a binch,
And their trade’s just the same as my own to an inch;
For clients, whenever they dive in it,
Soon find the cash fail;
For the law’s a big nail,
An’ the ‘torneys are hammers for driving it.
For by cutting, &c.
Then each Sunday, at church, by the parson we’re tould,
By line, square, and compass, our actions to mould;
And at joining himself the right sort is;
For he pins man and wife
Together for life,
Just as firm as a tenon and mortise.
For by cutting, &c.
And the heroes who sarve in our army and ships,
When they’re fighting our battles, are all brotherchips,
So entirely our trades are according;
For, with tools of sharp steel,
Soldiers cut a great deal,
And the tars are nate workmen at boarding.
For by cutting, &c.
Then our nobles and marchants, and stock-jobbing lads,
Like joiners, work best when they’ve plenty of brads.
Each projector’s a great undertaker;
And, to clinch up the whole,
Our good king, bless his soul!
Is an elegant cabinet-maker.
For by cutting, &c.
I am trying to reach the bottom of the barrel of tools I need to get rid of. Here are the terms. Please read them before sending me a message.
The first to say, “I’ll take it,” gets it.
I only ship to addresses in the United States.
After I receive your payment (PayPal or personal check), I’ll ship your item.
If you want an item, send an e-mail to chris@lostartpress.com and be sure to say which item you want.
So here’s what I’m selling:
SOLD: The Second-best Hammer I Own: $35 (parcel post shipping included)
I bought this True Temper “Elle Perfect” 13 oz. hammer as new old stock in a hardware store in Chicago. It still had tags on it from one of the first NFL Superbowls. It has an octagonal hickory handle. Plus a perfectly domed striking face and perfect balance.
When I bought it, it still had all the original labels. Then I went on “The Woodwright’s Shop.” While we were rehearsing, Roy Underhill stripped all the labels off all my tools. Wince. But OK.
I paid $35 for the hammer. That’s what I’m asking today: $35.
SOLD: A Bronze Lie-Nielsen No. 212 Scraping Plane: $150 (parcel post shipping included)
Other than the No. 80, this is the scraping plane that does the best job. It’s easy to hold – like a block plane – and does a very good job.
SOLD: Veritas Hold-down: $65 (parcel post shipping included)
Wow. I never thought I’d sell a holdfast. But here we are. I have so many benches and so many holdfasts that I am going to (slowly now) purge a few.
When I teach beginning woodworkers, there are three comforting things I want to tell them.
1. All woodworkers have bad days. I’ve seen the uber-awesome magazine-cover superstars fumble to adjust a plane, I’ve seen them split a mortise, cut their dovetails the wrong way, you name it. I won’t name names because it is everyone.
2. My second dovetail teacher said the following thing to me in 1996. Remember this: Woodworkers have been hiding gaps in dovetails from rich people for hundreds of years. Here’s how I do it….
3. In my shop, putty is not a bad word, especially with painted works.
Ever since I’ve been woodworking I’ve been using Durham’s Rock Hard Water Putty for many things in the craft. It puts all of the lame-o putties in tubes to shame — all pre-mixed putties dry out, crack, shrink (in my experience) and generally are a waste of material.
Durham’s is a white powder, a lot like plaster of Paris. You mix it with water (and other things) to make a small or large amount of material, depending on the job. A 16 oz. can will last for more than a decade, unless you really suck eggs as a woodworker.
When you mix it with water, it makes a yellowish putty that is perfect for pine or maple. It dries quickly and, as advertised, rock hard. No cracks. You can make the putty any consistency you like – thin to wick into cracks. Thick to repair a large knot.
Mix it with Titebond II or Titebond III, and you can make a water-resistant or waterproof putty. No lie.
Add some dye (even food color) and you can tone the putty to whatever color you like.
When do I use it? Mostly with painted work. If a piece get banged up in the shop, and I cannot steam out the dents, Durham’s is an excellent solution. I’ll use it to fill voids from knots. And – very important – it is a great glazier’s putty for securing glass in a divided-light door in an authentic way (thanks to Glen Huey for showing me this).
But despite my love for Rocky – the muscle-bound character on the label – I don’t use Durham’s to hide gaps in dovetails. That’s because I haven’t ever had a gap in a dovetail (a bald-face lie). Instead, I use different strategies. Next time I dovetail a carcase together, I’ll shoot some photos. I have a toolbox to build in a couple weeks.
In the meantime, get yourself a can of Durham’s Rock Hard Water Putty – it’s a shop staple.
