CHAPTER VII. HE FINDS THE CLUE.
Thus far our smith had by no means realized the benefits anticipated from the possession of steel. He had, indeed, ascertained what degree of heat it would bear, learned to weld it to iron, made some punches that were a little better than iron ones, and yet he was as far removed from a knowledge of tempering that would enable him to forge and finish a reliable tool of any kind as before; since to heat a piece of steel and plunge it in water, making it so hard and brittle as to be useless, or quenching it when nearly cold, thus rendering it about as soft as iron, did not amount to anything practically.
And yet this man aspired to make an axe; yes, even had dim visions of plane-irons, draw-shaves, chisels, and gouges manufactured by William Richardson, edge tool maker. Aspired, did I say? The expression is too feeble. The idea absorbed his thoughts, and, ever present to his mind, assumed the character of a passion. It was not a mere whim, but based upon solid grounds.
There were but few ploughs in the place, and not many horses, and they were not shod all round except in the winter. But the axe was in universal use, subject to continual wear, and frequently broken. John Drew was celebrated for giving to his axes a high temper, that rendered them liable to break in frosty weather; one cause of which probably was, that he made up a lot of axes, and then tempered the lot. Upon tempering days he was always more or less under the influence of liquor. Indeed, he thought he could not temper an axe properly, unless he was half drunk; and it must be allowed that many of his neighbors were of the same opinion, while others said, he wanted them to break, in order that he might have a job of repairing. It was too early in the season to plough; the ice had broken up in the river, and having first driven the logs, cut and hauled in the winter, to the mill, he gave his undivided attention to the work, and employed John Bradford to help him cut up and draw the large bar of iron purchased at the store, while Clem and Robert mounted on a block—not being tall enough to reach the handle without—and blew the bellows. John had not struck through two heats with the large sledge when the stone anvil broke in two. This mishap, however, was soon repaired, as there was no lack of stones.
While they were placing another stone on the stump, David Montague came in.
"Neighbor Richardson," said he, "it is too bad that a man who is possessed of the industry and ingenuity you are, should be so put to it for tools, and be obliged to work iron on a stone. Now I tell you what I'll do with you. I mean to get out timber and boards in the course of next year to build me a frame house the year after; 'twill take two years to make the shingles and clapboards, hew the frame, and put the house up. Now I'll advance you money to buy an anvil beck (beak) horn, stake, tools to head nails with, and you may pay me in work, shoe my horse and oxen, and make all the nails for my house. I shan't want a nail under a year, and not many under fourteen months, so that you can make them next winter, and at odd jobs."
Nails were then made by hand, of wrought iron. The stake was a species of anvil of small size, and used to point horse-nails on. The beak horn was a very necessary thing at that day, used for welding hollow articles, and for work upon plough irons.
"I am sure, neighbor, you couldn't do me a greater favor, for I need an anvil sadly, though I can get along without the stake and the beck horn."