PROBLEM: RE-FINISHING AN ANTIQUE MAHOGANY TABLE

The table with which this problem deals was found in an old furniture shop among a large number of pieces probably of equal antiquity but of poor design; for all old furniture was not conceived on beautiful lines. Much of it was quite as ugly as some of the modern furniture. This table, however, when separated from the rubbish which almost concealed it, was found to have good proportions, with simple but graceful elements designed to make it useful as well as attractive. It was a drop-leaf table, the leaves being cut in with a double curve at each of the four corners. The legs were of turned stock and fluted, terminating in brass thimbles with casters. One leg was broken off, one of the leaves had broken away entirely from its hinges and the other was partly broken, the table top had received some hard knocks, and the entire surface was so begrimed with dust and dirt that it was with difficulty that one could tell the kind of wood of which the table was made. It took some imagination to conceive the possibilities which lay in this much abused and dilapidated old relic.

The first thing to do was to wipe off the dust and dirt as well as possible with a damp sponge. The part of the top that remained on the frame was then removed so that the repairs could be easily made. The broken leg was replaced by boring each of the broken parts and setting them together with a 34-inch dowel, glued in. The brass tips and casters were removed and set aside to be burnished. The missing parts of the top were replaced by new pieces of baywood, fitted in, glued, and stained to match the original wood. After the necessary repairs had been made the entire table was treated with varnish remover and the old finish scraped off with a putty knife. This part of the process was completed by washing all the surfaces thoroughly with turpentine, carefully picking out with a pointed knife from corners, cracks, and openings of any kind, all remnants of the old finish and of the varnish remover. After carefully wiping off the results of this treatment with clean cheese cloth all the broad surfaces were then smoothed off with fine sand-paper. It was found that the wood was well filled, so that all it now needed was a final finishing with wax. The transformation from the begrimed old table found in the shop to a graceful and beautiful article of antique furniture was complete.


[IX]
HAND WEAVING

And Aphrodite came to comfort them
With incense, luscious honey, and fragrant wine;
And Heré gave them beauty of face and soul
Beyond all women; purest Artemis
Endowed them with her stature and white grace;
And Pallas taught their hands to flash along
Her famous looms.

The "Daughters of Pandarus" (from the "Odyssey," Lib. XX). Translation by Mrs. Browning.

Among the home industries which the arts and crafts societies have lately revived, perhaps none invite more interest or deserve greater honour than weaving with the hand loom. Weaving is an ancient art. If we were to seek its origin we should have to go back to the time when men adopted homespun clothing in place of rude coverings made from the skins of animals. That was a great change, for it meant the beginning not only of the textile industries but of civilization itself. It is no wonder that the distaff and the loom were highly honoured in ancient mythologies. Not less honour is due the spinning wheels and looms of our grandmothers, which played an important part in the early beginnings of our own history. The New England colonists spoke with pride of communities which showed progress in the weaving of cloth; and this was then largely a home industry in the hands of honourable women. It was a work of necessity, but not without love and devotion. Many evidences remain in beautiful coverlets or bedspreads, in towels of homespun flax, in durable linen sheets and table-cloths—examples of unfailing patience, great ingenuity, and marvellous skill—handed down from generation to generation to their present fortunate and proud possessors.

Weaving a Rug

[Plate VII]


The Primitive Loom.—In the Orient, where our choicest rugs are made, two trees growing near each other, some strings and pieces of bamboo, and a few simple accessories, are all the worker requires. This is a primitive loom. The modern hand loom is the same in principle; and the looms of our factories do not differ from it essentially. While it is true that their productive power has been enormously multiplied, this great improvement, which was actually one of the chief causes of a great industrial revolution, was due mainly to the inventive genius of two men who harnessed the motive powers of nature to the English hand looms.

Shuttle and bobbin

Warp and Woof.—The fundamental process in all weaving is essentially the same; and it is exceedingly simple. It consists in passing one set of threads between two other sets of threads which cross each other alternately and are moved first up and then down to allow the passage of the shuttle with its bobbin and thread. The set of threads which cross each other and which, by being moved up and down, interlock the thread which is passed between them, is known as the warp. The thread which the shuttle carries across and between the warp threads is called the woof. By careful selection of materials, by skilful design in the dyeing and arrangement of these materials, and by proper management of the warp and woof to express the design, the most beautiful Oriental rugs are fashioned; and, though we may not be able to reproduce these in our homes, very beautiful and very useful things may be made upon the hand loom by those who have the necessary enthusiasm and patience.

The hand loom

The reed

What the Hand Loom is.—The hand loom consists of four uprights or posts, joined on two sides at the top and bottom by cross pieces. Attached to the lower cross piece are two other uprights, one on each side of the loom, bolted in such a manner as to give free play back and forth. This is the beater. These cross pieces are grooved on their inner edges, and into this groove is slipped the reed, which is a frame divided into sections by short, stiff wires, making from 10 to 25 or more sections to the inch. It is called a reed because it was formerly made from reeds. The sections of the reed are called dents, and through each one is to be threaded a single strand of the warp. From the upper cross pieces extend two other uprights, one on each side, to a height of about two feet above the general framework. They are united at the top by a round piece called the roll, over which, near each end, are passed cords attached to pulleys which in turn carry other cords fastened by means of screw eyes to inch-wide sticks extending across the width of the loom. These sticks are in pairs and carry cords or wires of uniform length through the centre of each of which a thread of the warp is passed by means of an eye in each wire, as through the dent of the reed. This is called the harness. There must be at least two of them, and there may be more. Two are necessary for the simplest weaving of a plain surface, and more than two if the work is to be more complex, as is required for scarfs with fancy borders, cushions, or any figured products of the loom. Near each end of the loom are two rollers to which the two ends of the warp threads are attached when the loom is set up for weaving. These rollers are called beams. Over one of them the woven product passes as the loom is operated, while the other holds the unwoven warp. At the back of the loom is still another cross piece, underneath which pedals are fastened. These pedals connect by chains with the harnesses in such a manner that when the foot is placed on one of them the cords attached to it play over the pulleys, throwing the harness and the warp threads which it carries below the level of the other set or sets of warp threads. An ingenious device of cogs at the side of the loom holds the work taut and enables the worker to let out fresh warp and also to roll up completed work.