CHAPTER VII.
THE INCENDIARY.
“THERE! I can’t do anything with only one hand!” exclaimed Whistler, somewhat impatiently, as he was at work in the shop one morning with Clinton. He was nailing two pieces of wood together, for some purpose or other; but the nail split them both, and rendered them useless.
“You didn’t drive the nail in right, that’s the trouble,” said Clinton, after glancing at the pieces. “If you had turned it round the other way it wouldn’t have split. You have set the wide part of the nail across the grain of the wood, and it acts just like a wedge. Don’t you see how the nail widens towards the head? Well, that wide part ought to go the same way as the grain, and not across it.”
“I’ve heard something of that before, but I didn’t think anything about it,” said Whistler, who, it should be remarked, had far less mechanical skill than Clinton, who had enjoyed unusual facilities for cultivating this talent, and, besides, had a natural aptitude for it.
“Even if you were driving a nail into solid timber, where there was no danger of splitting,” continued Clinton, “the wide part ought not to go against the grain; for, if it does, there will be a little opening around the head of the nail, and that will let in air and moisture, and make the wood decay.”
“Well, I’ll try it again,” said Whistler; and he began to look around for some more pieces of wood.
“There is another thing about driving nails,” continued Clinton; “did you know that you can drive one into hard wood a great deal easier if you wet it?”
“No, I never heard of that,” replied his cousin.
“It is so,” added Clinton. “Oil is the best thing to wet it with; but water is good, or you can put it into your mouth, as the carpenters often do.”