"After the melt is in a fluid state it throws to the top, provided the heat is sufficient, many impurities such as bubbles and scum. These are, of course, skimmed off—a process called plaining. Afterward the hot material has to be cooled before it can be worked, and reduced from fluid to a thicker consistency. This we call standing off or fining."

"How long does it take to melt the batch and get it ready to use?"

"About three days. We run a relay of furnaces—three of them—and plan so that a melt will be ready to be worked every other day; in that way we keep plenty of usable material on hand."

"And then?"

"Then we are ready to go ahead and blow it. We make nothing but the better grades of blown glass here; that is, no window glass or cheap pressed ware. Of course there are some patterns, such as fluted designs and their like, which cannot be entirely fashioned by the blower; therefore these are first blown as nearly the required size as possible and are then made into the desired form by shutting them inside iron moulds and squeezing them into the proper shape. You shall see it done later on."

He now led them up to where a gatherer stood at one of the working-holes of the furnace.

"This man," explained Mr. Wyman, "is collecting on his blow-pipe enough glass to make a pitcher. He uses his judgment as to the amount necessary, but so often has he estimated it that he seldom gets either too much or too little. He will next carry it to the blower, who will blow it into a long, pear-shaped cylinder the size he wants the pitcher to be."

They followed, and with much interest watched a great Swede fill his lungs and blow into the smaller end of the iron pipe with all his strength; immediately the ball of soft, red-hot glass began to take form. With incredible speed the blower flattened its base upon a marver or table topped with sheet iron. A short iron rod or pontil was next fastened to the middle of the bottom of the pitcher in order that the blower might hold it, and after this had been done the blow-pipe was detached. The glass-maker sat in a sort of backless chair which had long, flat, metal-covered arms at either side, and as he worked he rolled the rod with its plastic material back and forth along one of these iron arms to shape it. He then took his shears and, making an incision at the middle of the back of the jug, he began to cut the top into the shape he wanted it, depending entirely on his eye for the outline. Then quick as a flash he seized a bit of round metal not unlike a beet in shape and, pressing it inside the soft glass, made the depression for the nose. All this was done in much less time than it takes to tell it. A small boy, or carrier, now bobbed up at just the proper moment and taking the pitcher on his wooden fork carried it off to a small furnace where it was reheated at the opening or "glory hole." This little furnace, Mr. Wyman said, was used only for the purpose of softening glass objects which became chilled in the modeling and began to be hard and less pliable. As soon as the boy brought the pitcher back another lad, as if calculating by magic the precise moment at which to appear, approached with a small mass of molten glass at the end of his gathering-iron. This he stuck firmly against the pitcher at the correct spot to form the base of the handle; the modeler snipped off with his shears as much of the soft glass as he thought necessary, turned it up, and in the twinkling of an eye fastened the upper end of the handle in place. Then he surveyed his handiwork an instant to make sure that it was symmetrical, straightened it just a shade with his battledore of charred wood, and passed it over to the carrier, who bore it off to be baked.

"Why do they use so much charred wood for the shaping?" inquired Jean.

"Metal things are liable to mark the glass, leaving upon it a print, scratch, or other imperfection; charred wood, when worn down, is absolutely smooth and cannot mar the material."