TRIUMPH OF THOUGHT AND INGENUITY.
After the departure of the boys, Sammy took up, with greater enthusiasm
than ever, those trains of thought that had been so rudely interrupted
by the day's occurrences, and after supper sat down in one corner of
the room to reflect.
His mother, having spun her stint, began to reel up the yarn. As he sat
thinking, and occasionally looking at her as she reeled the yarn from
the spindle, he communed thus with himself:--
"If a potter's wheel is an upright spindle with a little wheel on it
turned by a band that goes over a big wheel, and my mother's wheel is a
level spindle with a little wheel on it turned by a band that goes over
a big wheel, then what's the reason, if my mother's wheel is turned
upside down, the spindle won't be upright, just as Uncle Seth said a
potter's wheel was? And then if there was a round piece put on top to
put the clay on, and you turned the big wheel, it would turn the clay."
"Sammy, don't you feel well?" setting her wheel back against the wall.
"Yes, ma'am, I'm well."
"What makes you sit there so still, then?"
"I don't know, ma'am."
"I don't believe you feel very well: you've been through a good deal
this day, and you needn't go to milking. I'll milk: the cows don't give
a great mess now."
Scarcely had his mother left the threshold than Sammy, jumping up,
turned the wheel over flat on the floor, with the pointed end of the
spindle uppermost. He put a log under the post of the wheel to keep the
end of the spindle from touching the floor, and prevent its turning.
There was a basket of turnips sitting in the corner: he sliced the
top from one of them, to flatten it, and stuck it on the end of the
spindle, and getting on his knees turned the wheel round; and round
went both spindle and turnip.
"There!" said he talking to himself, "if that turnip was a round piece
of wood, and if there was clay on it, 'twould be the same thing as the
potter's wheel that Uncle Seth told about, that didn't have any crank,
only two wheels."
The same principle, Sammy meant.
"I haven't got any tools, nor any thing to make a wheel of: so I
couldn't make one."
The tears sprung to the poor boy's eyes; and hearing his mother's step
on the door-stone, and not wanting to have her question him about his
tears, he opened the window-shutter, leaped out, made for the hovel,
and sat down there. He had left in haste; and, as Mrs. Sumerford set
down her milk-pail, she saw her wheel upside down, with a turnip on the
end of the spindle. "What's all this!" pulling off the turnip. "Samuel,
Samuel Sumerford! Did ever anybody see or hear tell of such a boy? It's
a mercy that he didn't break the wheel-head. What satisfaction could
there be in turning that wheel upside down, and sticking a turnip on
the spindle?"
The little fellow's reflections were of a sombre cast. "There ain't no
good times now as there used to be. I had a bear, and he was killed;
Tony had one, and he was killed; and now baby's bear, that was the best
most of the whole, is killed too. I had a tame coon, and they killed
him; a cosset lamb, and he died; and the Indians have come, and carried
off Tony who I loved better than the bear or coon or cosset lamb. The
Indians keep coming, and killin' our folks; and Alice Proctor thinks
they'll kill us all some time."
Sammy's thoughts now seemed to take a sudden turn; for at once he
jumped up, and ran at his utmost speed to the Cuthbert house. His
mother, looking after him in amazement, said,--
"I don't know about this pottery business: the child don't seem one
mite as he used to. I hope he won't lose his wits."
Rushing up garret, he brought down part of a flax-wheel; that is, the
bench, the wheel, and the posts on which the wheel was hung, the rest
having been carried off by Cuthbert. Sammy's spirits rose with a bound:
he thought, if he only had a wheel, he could manage the rest.
Where should he get boards to make a bench? for boards were precious
things in the settlement. He recollected that Mr. McDonald had in
his house a meal-chest, and partitions made of boards, and some
milk-shelves; and that some of them were used for making coffins to
bury the family in, as there was not time to manufacture boards with
the whip-saw. But he thought they might not all have been used; the
house stood empty, and was rotting down.
Away ran the excited lad for Archie, made a confidant of him, and
wanted him to go to the McDonald house to see if there were not some
boards there, and, if so, get them.
"You don't ketch me there this time of day: it's haunted. It's all but
sundown now. I'll go in the morning: 'twill be dark by the time we get
there."
"'Twon't be dark if we run. All I want is just to look in, and see what
there is; and, if there is any, we can get them some other time."
As usual, Sammy prevailed; and away they ran, reaching the place just
after the sun had set. Directly before the door stood the hominy-block
on which McDonald and his son were pounding corn when the savages came
upon them, and an Indian arrow still sticking in the block. On the
door-step was the blood-stain, where little Maggie was butchered. The
boys recollected it well, for she was their playmate. They didn't like
to venture in; for the bullet-proof shutters were closed just as they
had been left when the family were killed, and it was dark inside. They
had not forgotten that the floor (on that fearful morning) of the very
room in which they expected to find the boards was red with the blood
of Grace and Janet McDonald. They tried to look through the loop-holes,
but could not see any thing distinctly within.
"You go in, Sam."
"I don't want to: go yourself."
"It's more your place to go than 'tis for me, 'cause you want to be a
potter."
Urged by his desire to obtain boards, Sammy at length entered the door,
and, standing in the passage, looked in.
"I see some square pieces of timber, Archie, that would be nice to make
the frame of the bench; but I don't see any boards. The partition's all
taken down: only these timbers what it was fastened to are left."
A slight noise was heard in the room; and Sam tumbled over Archie in
his haste to escape, and both ran away. They ventured back, and found
that the noise that had alarmed them was made by the fluttering of a
piece of loose bark (moved by the wind) which hung by one end to a
log; and found there was one short board left in the room, about six
feet long. They thought there might be some in the chamber where the
children used to sleep, which was not so dark as the rest of the house,
because light came through many chinks in the roof.
Sam mounted the ladder to look; but, just as he got his head above the
level of the floor, he heard a great scrambling, and something went
swiftly past him. He either leaped or tumbled to the floor (he never
knew which); and they ran home, resolving never again to go to that
place in the twilight.
Early next morning they went there; and it seemed very different in
the daytime. They brought their guns with them; but of what use they
supposed fire-arms would be, in a contest with supernatural foes, is
not readily perceived: however, they felt stronger for having them.
Archie opened the shutters, that had been closed by the hands of Mrs.
McDonald a few moments before her death, and the sunlight streamed
in. In the chamber they found a wide board twenty feet long, that was
planed on one side, and placed between the beds for the children to
step on when they got out of bed, as the rest of the floor was laid
with poles that were rough with knots and bark. They took down the
joist in the room below: these had been sawed out with the whip-saw, by
Mr. Seth and his brother, when they put up the partition. They were a
great acquisition to the boys, almost as much as the boards; for they
could not have hewn out joist accurately enough to frame together.
"Mr. McDonald didn't think, when he got Uncle Seth to make this
partition, a meal-chest, and milk-shelves (what nobody else in the Run
has got, and Mr. Blanchard himself ain't got), that they would take the
boards to make coffins for himself and his folks; did he, Sammy?"
"Don't let's talk about that here."
They yoked the oxen, hauled their stuff to the Cuthbert house, and set
about making a bench.
"How high and wide and long shall we make it?" said Archie.
"Uncle Seth told me it ought to be about as big as this table."
Cutting their joist, they halved the pieces together, and made the
frame of the bench with a cross-sill at the bottom in the centre to
receive the end of the spindle. How they should make the spindle, and
what they should make it of, was the next thing to be considered.
They went to a piece of land that had been cleared, and the timber
burnt, but had not been planted, and had partially grown up again,
where were a great number of ash-sprouts, that grew luxuriantly and
very straight, as is the habit of that tree; and soon found one to
answer their purpose.
Two blocks, one much larger than the other, were sawed from the ends of
logs,--one for a pulley (wheel the boys called it), and the other for a
small wheel to receive the clay; and a hole bored in the cross-sill to
admit the lower end of the spindle.
Holes were bored, and a square mortise cut in the centre of the two
blocks, and the spindle squared near the lower end, and the pulley
fitted on to it. The top of the spindle was also squared for the other
block. This was done in order that neither the pulley nor the wheel
might turn on the spindle: then a score was cut in the edge of the
pulley to receive a band. The frame of the bench was now boarded on
top, the spindle put in its place, and the upper wheel put on. Their
tools were few, and the boys without practice in using them; yet,
though the work was rough, the bench was level, and the spindle plumb,
although made of an ash-sprout, the bark still adhering to portions of
it. The pulley and clay wheel were also true circles, as they struck
them out with Harry's large compasses, and cut to the scratch.
A serious consultation was now held in respect to the manner in which
they should avail themselves of the flax-wheel.
After a long consideration, arising from the fact that the flax-wheel
was not theirs, and that they could do nothing to unfit it for future
use in spinning, Sammy knocked the legs out carefully from the bench,
and placed the latter upon its edge, upon the floor, with the wheel and
posts attached, and at a proper distance from the spindle; then put
under the posts a flattened piece of wood just thick enough to bring it
up to a level, and drove into it two pins each side of the post to keep
them in place, and short enough for the wheel to play over them.
Flat stones were laid against the other end of the bench, to keep it
from moving; a band passed round both the flax-wheel and the spindle,
and the bearings greased. Some method must now be devised to turn the
large wheel; and this was not an easy matter. This wheel had on it a
short crank, to which (when the parts of the machine were all in place)
the treadle was attached; and on this crank a tang half an inch long,
with a button on the end, to keep the treadle from slipping off. This
affair, especially the button, was much in the way of putting any thing
on the wheel by which to turn it, and was not large enough to be made
useful of itself; for it could only be held betwixt the finger and
thumb, it was so very short.
The rim of this wheel was three inches in depth, and there were sixteen
spokes quite near together. Archie proposed boring a hole in this rim,
and putting a pin into it; but Sam said that would never do, because it
would injure the wheel, and he had promised Prudence Holdness he would
leave it as good as he found it.
He tried to fit a wooden handle to the tang of the crank, but the
button on the end prevented.
These boys, it is true, possessed little knowledge of things in
general: yet they had read the woods pretty thoroughly, and were aware
that the roots of the alder, hazel, and wild cherry, inclined to run
for some distance near the surface, and then throw up shoots at right
angles with the root from which they sprung.
They found a wild cherry nearly two inches in diameter, that sprang up
from a long naked root, cut the top off within eighteen inches of the
ground, and then dug it up. They now cut one arm of the root close to
the stem, leaving the other a foot in length, flattened the under side,
placed the end of the root towards the hub of the wheel, and lashed it
firmly to a spoke. This was a handle by which to turn the wheel, and
did not injure it in the least. They found, by getting on their knees
and turning the flax-wheel, the spindle revolved steadily but not very
fast.
"It don't go so fast as mother's flax-wheel," said Sam.
"Not a quarter so fast as my mother's big wheel: the spindle of that'll
whirl so you can't hardly see it, when she's a mind to make it," said
Archie.
The boys now sat down to rest, and contemplate their work with great
satisfaction.
"Ain't it nice, Archie?"
"Yes; and we made it our own selves, didn't we?"
There is an important principle developed in this declaration of
Archie. They had learned much, and derived a great deal more pleasure
from the contemplation of that rude machine that they had exerted all
their ingenuity to make, than they would have done had Uncle Seth made
a potter's wheel, and given it to them. If you want to bring out what
is in a boy, want him to develop original thought, and become possessed
of resources within himself, encourage and stimulate him to make his
own playthings. How many children there are who have almost every thing
given them that a toy-shop can furnish, and yet get sick of their
novelties when they have looked them over, acquire but few ideas in the
process, and remain children during life! if that deserves the name of
life which is useless and barren, both in respect to themselves and to
others.
They soon tested their instrument by experiment. Taking some sand,
Sammy strewed it over the wheel, and put a lump of clay on it while
Archie turned. He did this in order that he might be able to get the
vessel off, as he knew the clay would stick to the wood; but when he
put his hands on the clay the wheel turned round under it, and the clay
tumbled to the floor. Finding that would never do, he swept off all the
sand, and flung the lump down hard on the wood, where it stuck fast
(as Uncle Seth had told him he saw the potters do), put his hands on
each side of the clay, and brought it up to a sugar-loaf form, and then
pressed it down to break the air-bubbles, then put his thumbs into the
middle of the lump, and his fingers outside. The clay instantly assumed
a circular form, and became hollow.
"Oh, oh! It's doing it!" shouted Sam.
"Doing what?" cried Archie, who on his knees could not see what was
going on.
"It's growing hollow. It's making a pot. Oh, it's growing thinner and
thinner!"
Indeed it was; for Sammy not only stuck his thumbs into the lump, but
kept separating his hands, till, the walls of the pot growing thinner
and thinner, both thumbs broke through, and there were only two long,
wide ribbons of clay, and no bottom; for he had pressed his hands down
so hard as to scrape through to the wood. He uttered a yell of dismay,
and Archie ran to look.
"Only see there," said Sam, taking up part of the side: "see how smooth
it is! I couldn't have made it so smooth the way I did before. Oh, if
it hadn't bursted!"
"What made it do so?"
"Don't know: guess I can do better next time."
Next time he succeeded in making something hollow, but it was almost
as big at the top as at the bottom; the sides were thick in one place,
and thin in another: but the boys thought it was nice till they tried
to take it from the wheel, when they found Sammy had poked his fingers
through the bottom to the wood.
Archie was now to try his hand: the wheel had made but a few
revolutions when he shouted,--
"Stop!"
He had pressed his hands so close together, that at the top there was
a cone of clay, and a round lump on the wheel, without the sign of a
hollow. The next time he made something hollow; but the sides were so
thin they would not stand, but tumbled down in a heap as soon as he
took his hands off.
Now it was Sammy's turn again. While turning the wheel for Archie, he
had been reflecting upon the causes of his poor success; and this time
made a pot that was all right at the bottom, and of a proper thickness,
only rather bulging in the middle. They were greatly delighted, but, in
trying to take it from the wheel, tore it in pieces. Sammy made another
attempt, and met with still better success. They dared not take this
pot from the wheel, yet were unwilling to ask Uncle Seth, or let him
know any thing about their proceedings till they had made more progress.
As it was near dinner-time, they concluded to leave it on the wheel,
and inquire of others, supposing that Mrs. Honeywood, Mrs. Blanchard,
or Holt's wife, who had lived in the old settlements, might tell them
something; but they could not.
"I don't believe but Scip would know: he has lived in Baltimore," said
Mrs. Blanchard.
They applied to Scip.
"De potters hab leetle piece of wire wid two sticks on it, to take hold
on. Dey pull dat through 'twixt de clay and de wheel; den dey take it
off wid dere han's, if leetle ting: if big ting, hab two sticks ob wood
put each side, fay to de pot, so not jam it. Me show you, me make you
one."
The boys looked at each other; for there was no such thing as a piece
of wire within a hundred miles, and they had never seen any save the
priming-wires that were with some of the smooth-bores. Scip advised
them to try a hard-twisted string, which they found to answer the
purpose.
Sammy kept on improving; but Archie did not, and began to grow tired
of pottery. It was hard work to turn the wheel: he perceived that, as
he could make no further progress in turning, in the natural order of
things, Sammy must be the potter, while he would remain wheel-boy.
Sammy, on the other hand, was full of enthusiasm, ever improving. He
could now tell the thickness of his pots by the feeling, and made them
uniform in this respect; was all the time correcting little defects;
and learned by practice how thick the sides should be to stand. He
offered Archie a powder-horn if he would turn all the afternoon; but he
wouldn't hear a word of it, and said his hands were blistered, and the
skin was worn off his knees, kneeling on the hard floor. Sammy offered
him a bullet if he would turn long enough for him to make three more
pots. Archie said he would the next morning; and here the work ended
for the day.