“What does that say, my lad?” asked Mr. Jepson, handing the package to the sceptical student.
“One dozen hack-saws,” Will read on the label.
“Here is one from the package, and you will see that it is just like the one in the frame. It is a saw without a particle of doubt.”
“It looks more like a file.”
“It is not at all like a file.”
“Dry up, Will! Admit that it is a saw, and don’t argue the question all day,” interposed Lew.
“I will give it up: it is a saw,” added Will.
The machinist applied the saw to the brass bar, started it carefully so that it need not jump about, and then worked quite lively for a few moments. The end of the bar soon dropped on the floor, and Will picked it up.
“I grant that you have sawed brass, but I don’t see how you can plane it,” said Will.
“In order to plane it, I should have to put it into a planer; but I can take off shavings as long as the bar itself. I must convince you, Will, or you will never believe it.”