CAM WOOD.
This is a dye wood; that is, the shavings boiled in water, or treated with alcohol, yield a handsome dye, which is largely used in the arts. It is moderately hard, in about the same degree as mahogany, and is plain in surface; it is handsome for inlaying and veneering in contrast with ebony, but changes to a brown with age.
BOX WOOD.
This is so well known to be a fine-grained, buff yellow color, and easily worked wood, as to need little further explanation of its characteristics. It is becoming scarcer and dearer every year, but is of little general value to the amateur from its monotonous sameness; one piece being like all the others; whereas, with snake wood, or granadilla, perpetual surprises await one. Refuse box wood, in odd-shaped pieces, can be bought very cheap from those who make it a business to fit up blocks for engravers, and also from wood-type makers.
LAUREL ROOT.
This is a peculiar wood, and, in my opinion, more peculiar than pretty. It has a singular feeling under the tool, cutting much like cheese or gum; like any thing else, in fact, but wood. In veining, it closely resembles brier wood and bird’s eye maple; pipes have been made of it. It is quite sound, but cannot be said to be handsome. It is the root of the common swamp laurel, I am told, and requires long seasoning and drying to be manipulated.
WHITE HOLLY.
This is a pure white wood, very easily bent, turned, and cut, straight of grain, and very useful for inlaying. Quantities of needle cases, fans, and such wares, are made of it. It is a native of this country, though the best is said to come from England. This seems quite unnecessary, for I have picked out of my wood-pile quantities of white holly, as handsome in color and in grain, as one could wish to see.
EBONY.
Every one has his prejudice, and I have no doubt but that many will consider me lacking in taste if I condemn this wood. It has one sole redeeming feature—blackness—which renders it indispensable in many cases. Yet I have seen rock maple dyed black, that put ebony to shame for richness of color and fineness of grain. No ebony that I ever saw was black, naturally. It was brown, and became black by oiling and varnishing. There is a variety, called “bastard ebony,” which is full of whitish brown stripes, and is soft like pine, but the true ebony is not to me a precious wood, although it is expensive, and, in some cases, undeniably handsome. In spite of all selection, aided by good judges, I have frequently found my “black ebony” any thing but black; it is full of season streaks and cracks, and splits in the most perverse and unexpected manner.