“Is that what you were doing?” Penny inquired, staring at the steaming mass which had been poured into the mold. “It’s sort of like making a gelatin pudding, isn’t it?”
“Jake and me never thought of it that way,” the old man replied. “I learned from an old Swiss bell maker when I was a lad. And I apprenticed under a master, you may be sure of that.”
“How do you make a bell anyway?” Louise inquired curiously.
“You can’t tell in five minutes what it takes a lifetime to learn,” the old man answered. “Now a bell like this one I’m making for the Methodist Church at Blairstown takes a heap o’ work. Jake and me have worked a solid week getting the pattern and mold ready for that pouring job you just saw.”
“Do you ever have any failures?” Penny asked, seeking to draw him out.
“Not many, but once in awhile a bell cracks,” the old fellow said modestly. “That happens when the mold is damp, or not of proper temperature. If gasses collect you may get a nice healthy explosion, too!”
“Does it take a long while to finish a bell after it’s been poured?” Penny pursued the subject.
“A large one may require a week to cool, but I’ll have this fellow out of the mold by tomorrow night,” Mr. McGuire returned. “Then we’ll polish her off, put in the clapper, and attach the bell to a sturdy mounting. If the tone is right, she’ll be ready to install.”
“How do you tell about the tone?” Louise questioned in perplexity.
“This one should have a deep, low tone,” the old man replied. “Other things being equal, a large bell gives a deeper tone than a small one. Pitch depends upon diameter, and timbre upon the shape and the alloy used.”