CHAPTER XVI

A potter raises a pot on a wheel while a boy and girl work on a pinchpot nearby.

Clay," began Mr. Marwood as they went along, "can be shaped in any one of several ways, you know: either by throwing; by turning; by pressing it into hollow moulds; by shaping it by hand over another type of mould; by pressing it into flat ware such as platters and plates; by making it by machinery over moulds as is done by hand; by casting it into the desired form; and by compressing it."

Theo looked puzzled.

"The list sounds like a long one," Mr. Marwood went on smiling into the boy's troubled eyes, "but when you understand the processes you will findthat it is all much simpler than it seems. Before we begin to investigate any of these methods, however, I want to say just a word about the moulds over which, or inside of which, the ware is sometimes shaped; for moulds are a very important feature both of pottery and porcelain-making."

"What are the moulds made of?" was Theo's first question.

"I am glad you asked, for that is the vital matter," Mr. Marwood replied. "Many materials have been tried with varying degrees of success—plaster-of-Paris, alabaster, steel, gun-metal, and brass. Of course what is necessary is a strong, firm, absorbent material. Clay moulds break too easily, and also become saturated with water and lose their shape; metal moulds, on the other hand, while most useful in making wares decorated with fine, raised designs such as the Wedgwood figures, fail to seep up the superfluous water. Therefore plaster-of-Paris has proved the best medium for the purpose. Not only does it retain its form, but it also takes up a certain proportion of the moisturefrom the clay that is moulded inside or outside it."

"I understand," Theo nodded.

The elevator stopped and they stepped out into a vast, well-lighted room, gray with clay-dust and thronging with powdery workers. At benches, before revolving wheels, and beside turning-lathes toiled busy workmen with white, clay-coated hands.

"We will start our program with the potter's wheel, the oldest of pottery modeling devices," said Mr. Marwood. "It is a very simple contrivance, you see—just a round piece of board set horizontally on top of a revolving spindle. As the disc turns the potter shapes the clay with his fingers, building it up to the desired height and moulding it to conform to the profile, or pattern, he keeps beside him. This profile is of wood or steel, and gives the elevation of the object in actual size. As he works the potter constantly consults and measures it. Pieces made in this fashion are known as thrown ware. All the finest potteries, as well as some of the most expensive porcelains,are made in this way. However, it is a costly process and rather slow, for a piece thus shaped must have the entire attention of a single worker. If we were to make all our china by this method I do not know where we should bring up. It would take us a decade, and cost us a great deal of money. But by this means the most artistic results are obtained. It was in this fashion that the Greeks modeled their matchless vases, and you can now see why no two of them were alike. Each potter put his soul into the thing he was making, and as he had endless time at his command he worked with utmost care to perfect his product. This was all very well in a warm country where life was simple; demands few; and where there was not the tension of present day living. It was a matter of no concern if the artist made only a few such vases in a lifetime. He had the patronage of the rich, and was sure of being taken care of. But to-day, alas, we face a different problem.

IT IS A COSTLY PROCESS, AND RATHER SLOW

"We surely do," agreed Theo.

"Therefore, here in America only a small proportion of this thrown ware is made. Such artpotteries as the Roferno and Sicardo wares, seen chiefly in private collections and museums, are thrown; also some of the Grueby, Rookwood, and Cincinnati varieties—all very beautiful American potteries. In addition to these exquisite home products The Dedham and Paul Revere potteries made near Boston should be mentioned, for although of less costly type they are doing much to set a standard of perfection of form, choiceness of coloring, and fitness of design. All these wares are distinct contributions to the art world. Of course certain wares are made by a modification of this throwing process. Large pieces, for example, frequently have to be thrown in several parts, fastened together, and afterward finished. Some pieces the thrower shapes over a plaster-of-Paris mould; and some he shapes inside the mould, reversing the process and pressing the clay against its confining surface. The danger in thrown ware comes from an uneven pressure on the clay resulting in a lack of solidity; the pieces are not always equally firm at all points and in consequence sometimes crack.

"Can pieces of any design be thrown?" inquired Theo.

"No, only round pieces such as cups, mugs, vases, jars, or bowls. In other words, only circular pieces. Frequently, too, these are only started by the throwing process and are finished by some other means such as turning, for example."

"What is turning?" asked Theo.

"Surely you have seen a turning-lathe, Theo," asserted Mr. Marwood. "Here is a turner just opposite us. You will notice he has a lathe that goes by steam. The vase on which he is working has previously been roughly formed on a jigger—a revolving mould over which a sheet of clay has been pressed and quickly shaped. After such a piece has been dried to a leather hardness the turner takes it in its crude and uncompleted state and by running his lathe over it planes down the surface to a smooth, even thickness. Sometimes, too, by means of one of these lathes milling-tools are used to cut designs around the neck or base of the article. The rough edges are then sponged and before the piece is thoroughly dried handlesare put on if desired. Here in America turning is the process very generally employed for finishing articles begun by the jiggermen."

"And now about hollow ware—how do they make that?"

"Hollow ware is pressed by hand," answered Mr. Marwood. "The process is used for pieces that cannot successfully be made by any other means—such things, for example, as soup-tureens and large covered dishes. The idea is to press the clay over or into moulds so it will be the exact shape required. Of course this necessitates the making of pieces in sections. The two sides of a vase are moulded separately, for instance; also the bottom. Then the parts are pressed firmly together and held in place by strings or thongs of leather until securely joined. Afterward the base is inserted in its proper place. The inside seams are then leveled and sponged away, and the mould sent to the drying room. Later it is returned; the outside seams moistened and smoothed; the moulded handles put on; and the piece is ready to be decorated and fired. It is a difficult ware tomake, for unless the workmen are skilled at giving the clay an even pressure it is liable to be thicker in some places than others. Sometimes, too, if the seams are not strongly united the article will crack. It demands a strong, even touch. Remember that hollow ware is pressed from the outside; and that flat ware is just the opposite, and is pressed from the inside. The top surfaces of such things as plates, platters and trays are thus formed, their outer side being shaped by hand or by a jolly, which we shall see presently."

Mr. Marwood passed on through the crowded room until he suddenly paused beside a workman at another machine.

"This," explained Theo's conductor, "is a jigger. There are two machines very commonly used in the United States for shaping the cheaper wares: one is a jigger, a device of this type; and the other a jolly, an invention very similar in construction but having a tool attached that forms the outside, or bottom of the piece, the inside of which has previously been shaped by the jigger. You may recall that I spoke of the jigger; andtold you how a revolving mould was inserted into it, and how afterward a sheet of clay was laid on the outside of this mould and rapidly shaped. The jolly, on the other hand, is used for making such things as covers, the top surface of which has already been moulded. The profile set in the jolly-lever makes the bottom. That, as I told you, is how we get the base of our plates. For certain articles the jigger is preferred; for certain others the jolly; but the aim of both is the same, and the workers at the machines are all called jiggermen. After an article is taken from the jigger or jolly it is dried and carried to the turning-lathe to have its surface smoothed and finished."

"And does it take all these men to run a jigger?" whispered Theo, pointing to the moving figures that hurried to and fro.

"An organized group of men is employed at each machine," answered Mr. Marwood. "First there is theclay-carrier, who must bring the material to the workmen; then there is a second man called thebatter-outwho takes from the carrier the piece of clay cut into the proper size,and after laying this on a block gives it a strong blow with a plaster-of-Paris bat to flatten it for the jiggerman. When making simple objects such a man can give the article quite a start even with one stroke. You can see that some such beginning must be made before the jiggermen can handle the material."

"How much does the bat weigh?" demanded Theo, instantly interested.

"About fifteen pounds. It is not very heavy, but the batter wields it with considerable force. After the article has thus been approximately shaped, and the jiggerman has completed it, a mould-runner must carry the freshly modeled piece to the stove-room to be dried; and on his backward trip bring with him two other articles that are already dry. These he takes off the moulds, leaving the dry piece to go to the finisher, and the mould to the batter-out. The fourth man in the team, or crew, is thefinisher. His duty is to smooth the rough edges of each article with a damp sponge, or a tool of flat steel. After this process is completed the jiggerman'screw is through with its part of the work and the goods go to the greenroom to be counted, and if perfect accepted by the foreman. Most jiggermen hire their own helpers, as it is simpler for them to do so. Formerly only round articles were made by the jiggermen—such things as cups, plates, bowls, etc. But now oval, as well as round dishes, can be made on a jigger, although elliptical wares are not turned out this way to any very great extent, other processes of shaping being preferred for objects of this type."

"You spoke, Mr. Marwood, of casting some wares," remarked Theo.

The older man smiled.

"You have a good memory, my boy," he said. "I did mention casting. It is an independent process, and shapes of great variety can be fashioned as well as ornamented in this way. By the casting method, too, we are certain of getting articles of uniform thickness. We can even make very thin objects by this means. But the process is destructive of moulds, and therefore has its flaws. The success of the plan is entirely dependenton the mould's absorption of the moisture in the clay; otherwise the method of casting could not be applied to potteries or porcelains. As the clay is compressed the water is squeezed out of it, and this the mould must take up, or the clay would never dry and retain its shape. You can understand that, I think."

"Yes, sir."

"The last of the processes of which I wish to tell you is die-pressing. Here we take a very finely ground clay dust; moisten it a little; and fill a die, or steel mould, with it. This die we then put into a screw, or hydraulic press, and squeeze it under an intense pressure with the result that the piece is shaped very solidly. We use this process for making small, complicated objects such as those employed for electrical purposes. They are brittle and delicate and have to be manufactured with extreme care."

"Are plumbing supplies made this way?"

"No, indeed! Sanitary pieces are too large to be turned out in such a fashion. They are made by hand, being first built up inside enormousmoulds. We can employ only the most skilful workmen on this task because the goods are difficult to make. Such a thing as a porcelain bath-tub involves a great deal of clay, and therefore were it to be damaged we should lose much expensive material." Mr. Marwood took out his watch. "Now, there you have all the various ways of shaping clay ware! Its decoration and firing is another story, and far too long a one for us to attack to-day. We must be back at the conservatory at one o'clock for luncheon. Evidently Mr. Croyden got too deeply snowed under to join us, so we shall have to hunt him up. Confess you are hungry."

Theo's eyes twinkled.

"I believe I could eat something if I were urged," he admitted.

"So could I," rejoined Mr. Marwood heartily. "I am starved. We will find Mr. Croyden right away. It has been a good morning, hasn't it, Theo?"

"Certainly I've enjoyed it," exclaimed Theo.

"And I too," agreed the older man.

A potter raises a pot on a wheel while a boy and girl work on a pinchpot nearby.

Next morning bright and early Theo and Mr. Croyden were off to the factory, and once more the boy found himself consigned to the care of Mr. Marwood. This was no hardship, however, for the two got on excellently together, and Theo was only too glad to coöperate in any way he could with Mr. Croyden, whom he knew to be very busy. Therefore with this new friend as pilot the pilgrimage through the china works was resumed at precisely the point where it had been left the preceding day.

"This morning," Mr. Marwood said, "we will turn our attention to the decoration of porcelain,which I think you will find quite as interesting as was its making. There are almost as many different processes to decorate the ware as there were methods of shaping it."

"Which one are we to begin with?" questioned Theo eagerly.

"I think we'd better start with printed designs. Were you ever in Washington, Theo?"

Theo glanced up in surprise at the irrelevance of the inquiry.

"Yes, sir."

"Good! What were some of the places you visited?"

Again the lad regarded his conductor curiously.

What had his trip to Washington to do with the decoration of china, he wondered.

"Oh, I went to the Capitol, of course," he answered, "and to the White House, and the Congressional Library; then Dad took me to the Smithsonian Institute and to the Bureau of Printing and Engraving, and ——"

"Stop!" cried Mr. Marwood. "I now havefound out exactly what I wished to know. So you have seen bank notes engraved?"

"Yes, sir."

"You remember then how the design is cut on a copper or steel plate?"

"Yes, indeed," came promptly from Theo.

"I am very glad of that, for it is precisely this method we use when we print designs on china. The difference is that the designs on our money are printed in ink, and those we transfer to our porcelain are done with mineral colors; nor are our plates so finely made. However, the idea underlying the processes is identical. The color is applied to the metal plate, and what is not retained in the engraved depressions of the design is carefully scraped away. Then on a kind of paper expressly prepared for the purpose the picture is made, and while it is moist it is placed against the ware and rubbed in with a piece of soft flannel. When it is awkward to handle the design as a whole it is cut into sections and pieced together on the china itself."

"Does one person do the whole thing?

"No. It is the duty of one worker to arrange the design and see that it is in the right place; and the task of the next one to rub it in with the flannel and soap. Then after the china has stood for some time it is put into water and the paper sticking to it is floated off, leaving the colored print on the porcelain."

"Is it done before the ware is fired?" asked Theo.

"Sometimes it is done on the biscuit ware before it is glazed, and sometimes on the glaze itself. It all depends on the result the decorators wish to obtain. If printed before the porcelain is glazed it is called under-glaze printed ware, and must be put through a kiln, which will take the oils out of the print; if done on the glaze it is fired in order to burn the colors in and blend them with the frit."

"It must be hard always to get the designs where you want them," observed Theo meditatively. "I used to trace patterns at school sometimes, and often they slipped and made the spacing wrong.

"That is one of the difficulties our designers encounter, too," replied Mr. Marwood. "Sometimes you will see pieces where the spacing is not equal, or where a border does not join. That indicates inaccurate placing of the pattern, or an incorrect estimate of the space."

"I don't wonder they get it wrong sometimes," declared Theo. "It isn't so easy. I remember once decorating a card for Mother with some decalcomania pictures. It was mighty hard to get them where I wanted them."

"Decalcomania?" exclaimed Mr. Marwood. "We do that kind of work here too. In fact, a great many of our most beautiful gold borders are transferred to the ware by that method. I see you will be quite at home, Theo, in our decorating department."

"I guess you would find me a pretty poor hand at it," laughed the lad. "My fingers would be all thumbs."

"Possibly at first. It is very fussy work, I must admit. But the processes are at least easy for you to understand. Another type of decoration thatwill interest you is that employed when we wish to put bands of solid color around the edges of plates or dishes; also when we wish to color their entire surface. We call it ground-laying. Now how do you suppose we do that?"

Theo thought a moment.

"I can't imagine," he said at last. "Of course you could not get the color even with a brush."

"No," answered Mr. Marwood. "We must first apply to the space we wish to color a peculiar kind of oil, and afterward dust over this moistened surface a finely ground metallic color."

"Which sticks only to the oiled part!" Theo exclaimed, quickly.

"You have the idea. Then the superfluous powder is blown off, and when fired the dust fuses into a solid liquid color, giving us a smoothly laid band of red, blue, green, or what you will; or perhaps a dish of solid tone if that has been the intent. We do not use this method for every type of flat color work, however, because when the powdered color blows about the workers are apt toinhale it, and it is very bad for their health. Therefore when it is possible we tint the china by hand, which can be done if the color is a delicate one and spreads smoothly; or we color the clay itself."

All this time Theo and Mr. Marwood had been passing through the factory and going from one building to another; now they entered the decorating department.

"First I want you to see our air-brush process," Mr. Marwood said.

He led the way to an ingenious machine which by means of compressed air was spraying a fine jet of color over the surface of a porcelain plate. In some places this color rippled away into a faint tint; in others it settled into an area of a deep rich tone. By the aid of stencils the effect produced was of an exquisitely shaded ware, and Theo watched the work with delight.

"I think this air-brush process is the most interesting one I have seen," the boy cried.

"It certainly is fascinating to watch, isn't it?" agreed Mr. Marwood. "I could stand here allday; but I fear we must go on, for we still have much to see. Let us go over to where those girls are gilding. Some of them are putting a fine gold line on the china, and others are doing elaborate designs in gold. The work of the next group is to gild the handles of cups and dishes."

They passed on and stood beside the workers.

"That does not look like gold!" exclaimed Theo, who viewed in astonishment the chocolate brown pigment that the girls were using.

Mr. Marwood laughed.

"All gold looks like that," he said, "before it is fired and burnished. In fact, all the mineral colors used to decorate glass, pottery, and porcelain look very different when they are put on from what they do after they have been subjected to the heat. That is the wonderful part of working in oxides and metallic colors. The beautiful hues we see on china or glass are the result of years of experiment. Never forget that. All china decorators have constantly to bear in mind the effect of a high temperature upon their colors. What would be attractive on the unfired clay mightemerge from the kiln a very ugly product indeed. We must reckon on this fact."

Theo nodded.

"It must make the decoration of china a great problem," he said.

"It does. However, decorators have now learned pretty well what to expect. A certain carmine, for example, fires out violet. Many other shades fire lighter or darker than when applied, and allowance must be made for them. The girls who paint china become very skilful in estimating the changes in colors. These who are working beside us are doing the finest sort of porcelain decoration—faces, figures, and flowers. Those across the aisle are doing a vastly different type of work. They are putting coarse, sketchy flowers on the cheaper ware. Some of them, you will observe, are filling in designs that have either first been printed, or transferred by the decalcomania process, and must afterward be finished by hand. The girls supply the dabs of color that are needed to complete the pattern."

"It looks easy.

"It is not highly skilled work," answered Mr. Marwood. "Some of our methods, however, are far less skilled than this one. What would you say, for instance, to decorating china with a sponge?"

"A sponge? Painting with a sponge?"

"Not exactly painting," protested Mr. Marwood. "It is not quite that. We do, nevertheless, for our cheapest ware use a fine-grained sponge cut in the shape of the desired design. This we dip in color and with it impress a pattern on the clay as we would with a rubber stamp."

"I should think you would use a rubber stamp and be done with it," replied Theo.

"It would not hold the color satisfactorily," explained Mr. Marwood. "But we do use the stamping method for inexpensive gold ware. We also imprint the firm name or trade-mark on the bottom of our porcelain that way before it is glazed; so we do some stamping, you see. Of course stamping is only for the cheap wares. The finest porcelain is hand-decorated—or at least the major part of it is.

Theo was silent; then he said:

"Suppose after all the work of preparing the clay, and shaping and decorating it, the piece is broken when the final glaze is put on?"

"That tragedy sometimes occurs," responded Mr. Marwood. "Often, too, a piece with many colors and much gold work on it has to be fired several times, and is therefore in jeopardy more than once. In addition to these risks you must remember the number of hands through which an article passes from the time of its moulding to its final arrival from the glost-kiln. A delicate piece of ware is in peril every second. It may be dropped and broken; chipped in handling; its clay body may crack when exposed to the heat; the colors in the decoration may fire out unsatisfactorily; or at the very end there may be a defect in the glaze."

"Great Scott!" gasped Theo. "Why, I never should expect to get a single perfect piece of porcelain."

"On the contrary, we get a great many," smiled Mr. Marwood. "They are almost all perfect.The imperfect piece is the exception. But each piece represents untold care. We sometimes laugh at the old adage of a bull in the china-shop, but let me assure you that a poor workman can do almost as much damage in a porcelain factory."

Mr. Marwood drew out his watch.

"I believe we shall now have just about time before luncheon to go down to the kilns," he observed presently. "Should you like to?"

"Indeed I should."

"There is not much that we can see, I am afraid. However, we may be able to catch a glimpse of some of the ware being packed in the saggers."

"What is a sagger?"

"It is a large clay container in which unfired pottery or porcelain is packed while it is passing through the firing process. These large clay vessels have come into general use as the best thing for the purpose. They stand the heat and at the same time are less liable to break or chip the goods than are containers of any other material. We make them ourselves here in the mills. In fact,there is an entire section in the clay-shop devoted to nothing but sagger making. Special machinery grinds and mixes the clay; special men fashion by hand the great containers; while other men do nothing but work in the wad-mills where rolls of clay to cover the top of the saggers and protect the unfired ware from smoke are made."

"Don't the clay saggers ever break?" questioned Theo.

"Sometimes, alas!" admitted Mr. Marwood. "When they do the china in them must be rescued from the kilns and put into new saggers. The old saggers are then broken up; the clay in them ground and sifted; and after being moistened again and mixed with fresh clay other saggers are modeled."

"Is the same sort of clay sagger used for the glazed as well as for the unglazed wares?"

"No. For the glazed china we generally use glost saggers that have been covered on the inner side with a coating of enamel."

All this time as they talked they had been passing through the mill and they now entered a lowhot building where a series of brick ovens with arching tops covered the floor.

"Here," said Mr. Marwood, "are the firing kilns. After the ware has been brought here in baskets it is very carefully packed in the saggers, and the saggers in turn packed in these great brick ovens. Before they are put in the kilns have to be cooled so the heat to which the ware is subjected may increase gradually."

"But it must take forever to pack all the saggers into the kiln," declared Theo as he viewed in consternation the interior of one of the waiting ovens.

"It takes a long time—about five hours," answered Mr. Marwood. "Porcelain requiring a shorter firing is placed near the front of the kiln, so it can be removed if necessary before the rest is taken out. After the kiln is filled the men brick up the door of the oven and start the fire. There the china bakes from forty to sixty hours. The length of time required depends on the sort of ware being fired and the temperature of the kiln. Then the opening is unsealed and the cooling process begins.

"Do they wait until the saggers and their contents are cold before they take them out?" asked Theo.

"No, indeed," was Mr. Marwood's reply. "That would take too long. Often we are in a hurry to get the goods out and the ovens cooled for the next lot of porcelain; frequently, too, we want the ware so that we may continue work upon it. Therefore we begin the drawing while the oven is still very hot—so hot that the men are stripped to the waist and wear only overalls, shoes, and thick gloves. The kiln drawers are never forced to draw out the saggers, however, when they are intensely hot unless they wish to do so. The law protects such workers and specifies at just what degree of temperature the work is to become optional. Not only do these men draw the ware, but they also empty it from the saggers as well as put it into the baskets in which it is carried back to the factory and inspected, further decorated, or packed for shipping."

Mr. Marwood waited a moment, then added:

"In some foreign countries a tunnel kiln isused instead of an oven like this. It is supposed to require less fuel. It is a long tunnel with a track through the centre over which little cars laden with ware are propelled by machinery. The heat is graded in such a way that it is most intense in the middle of the kiln. The ware starts at one end of this tunnel where the temperature is quite low, travels toward the centre where the heat is highest, and then comes out at the other end of the tunnel through a diminishing heat. In this way it cools gradually. They say, however, that such a method is more successful for biscuit (the unglazed china) than for the glost. Here in America where fuel has always been plenty we have stuck to our old-fashioned brick ovens in spite of their expense. I am afraid we are not a saving nation."

"Father says that after this war is over we shall have to be more saving," said Theo.

"I believe that too," confessed Mr. Marwood. "We never have learned to figure things down to the lowest cent. We shall have to do it; and it won't hurt us, either. On the contrary, it will bea good lesson. If each of us would use the least possible material in the home, the factory, and the office we should save an amazing amount in a year."

"I think we ought to do it," affirmed Theo soberly.

"So do I," rejoined the elder man. "Many manufacturers have already come to finding uses for stuff they previously considered waste. They are using up their by-products, thereby not only enriching themselves but giving to the world things that are needed. It is an interesting and ingenious problem. If we were to employ the same principle everywhere we should find it well worthy of our brain power. Now shall we go back and hunt up Mr. Croyden, or have you still questions to ask?"

"I have a thousand questions," laughed Theo, "but I don't think you'd better stop now to answer them. Mother says I always do have questions; she says no sooner am I through with one than I am ready with another."

"So long as they are intelligent, thoughtfulquestions I am sure no one minds answering them," Mr. Marwood replied. "How else are we to learn? The man who is ashamed to ask questions and confess he does not know is worth little in the world. When I spoke of questions, however, I meant questions about china-making."

"Oh!" exclaimed Theo. "No, I don't think I have any more questions about porcelain except to ask you how the glaze is put on the biscuit ware."

"That certainly is an intelligent question, and one I shall be only too happy to answer," Mr. Marwood said. "We could go down into the dipping sheds if we had more time. But perhaps since there is not I can tell you about them and it will do almost as well. To begin with, these sheds have cement floors because the glaze, or slip, spatters all about and dries upon them. It is therefore practically impossible to keep wooden floors clean, and we do not wish our workmen to inhale any more of the dried flint dust than is absolutely necessary."

"I remember hearing about that," Theo said.

"The glaze material is ground up while dry andvery carefully sifted," went on Mr. Marwood. "Afterward it is mixed with water; colored, if a tinted glaze is required; and then pumped into tanks where it is kept well stirred. When ready the ware is dipped into this glaze and again fired. This time, however, it is a more difficult matter to pack it into the saggers since it must neither touch the sides of the sagger nor come in contact with any other piece."

"I never thought of that," owned Theo. "Of course, now that you speak of it, I can see that when the glaze melts and fuses with the clay it would show any mark."

"Exactly."

"It must be an awful job to keep each piece separate."

"It demands extreme care," returned Mr. Marwood. "We use all sorts of little clay devices to support the ware, and keep it in place while it is in the saggers."

"Does it take about the same length of time to fire the glazed porcelain as for the biscuit?" inquired Theo.

"No. The glost firing usually takes only from twenty-four to thirty-six hours. Afterward any bits of glaze projecting from the china or clinging to it are chipped away with a steel tool and the piece is examined. If free from flaws it goes either to the packing room to be shipped, or back to the factory, in case additional decoration is to be put on over the glaze. You may recall that I told you that there was an over-glaze and an under-glaze method of decoration."

"Yes, sir."

"Are your questions answered now?"

"I believe they are, thank you."

"And you can now make china without trouble—whatever kind you like best?"

"I shouldn't want to start doing it to-morrow," chuckled Theo. "I think I should rather begin on earthenware."

"You would have to go to some other mills, then," smiled Mr. Marwood. "We make no C. C. ware here."

"What is C. C. ware?"

"Ask Mr. Croyden," replied Mr. Marwood."You see, we have a little joke about it. His name is Charles Croyden and sometimes in jest we call him C. C. Now C. C. ware (an abbreviation for cream-colored) is one of the cheapest of the white earthenwares. When first manufactured it used to be of a pale yellowish tint, but now it is made in white. Nevertheless its quality has not been materially improved. As Mr. Croyden manufactures only the finer grades of chinas it is a favorite quip of ours to call him C. C."

Theo laughed heartily.

"I will ask him about the C. C. ware some time," grinned the boy.

A potter raises a pot on a wheel while a boy and girl work on a pinchpot nearby.

Theo was as good as his word.

That noon as he and Mr. Croyden sat at luncheon he remarked mischievously:

"You did not tell me, sir, that you made C. C. ware here."

Mr. Croyden raised his eyes quickly and laughed.

"So they passed that joke on to you, did they?" he said. "C. C. ware indeed! You young rascal! I have half a mind now not to send to your mother that blue vase you admired so much."

"That blue vase! The one with the girl's headon it?" cried Theo. "Are you really going to send it to Mother?"

"If you behave yourself I am," came grimly from the older man. "And if she will let you come and visit us again some time."

"Oh, Mother'll be crazy over that vase. It is a corker!" exclaimed Theo. "I can tell her how I saw them making it."

"You shall carry it back to her then, since you think she will like it," declared Mr. Croyden. "That is unless you would rather select as a present a piece of C. C. ware," he added humorously.

Theo smiled and shook his head.

"Or maybe you would prefer a bit of Samian ware, or jet ware, or Rockingham ware, or yellow ware, or stoneware, or ironstone china, or white granite, or Queen's."

"Jehoshaphat! Are there all those kinds of earthenware?"

"Yes, and that is not the full list, either," replied Mr. Croyden. "We have a great many kinds of crockery, and as each variety has its cheaper as well as its more expensive grades, itmakes an almost endless number of styles. The better types of white earthenware are made from carefully selected and well mixed clays, and more nearly approach porcelain, of which they are imitations. Often their design is quite good and in consequence they fill a large place in many a modest home. Indeed, although we ourselves do not go in for such chinas we respect a well-made piece of earthenware, for the making of good earthenware is an art in itself. Many a rule attends its successful manufacture. For example, the bottom of a heavy piece must not be too thick, or it will crack, because a tremendous strain comes on the base when the clay begins to dry and shrink. The sides pull from every direction, and therefore the bottom must be sufficiently thin to be elastic, and sufficiently thick to be strong. And that is only one of the problems to be faced by pottery and earthenware makers. So you see they, as well as we, have troubles."

"I guess no business is without its troubles," observed Theo.

"No business that is interesting," answered Mr.Croyden. "It is getting the better of such difficulties that gives zest to manufacture, making it a constant field for man's fertile brain. I think the old Italians were right when during the golden days of Venetian history they recognized the intellectual status of glass-makers, silk-makers, and the like; and accorded to such men the same honors they did to those of noble rank. For, after all, the noble was only what chance had made him; while the skilled artisan was what he had made himself—a far more creditable thing, to my way of thinking."

"And to mine!" agreed Theo.

"I am glad you feel that way," Mr. Croyden said, "because I am anxious to have you view this industry not alone from its technical but from its larger aspect. Did I not believe that I was doing something more than just the humdrum task of making dishes I should speedily become discouraged and decide my labor was not worth the strength I am constantly putting into it. But every honorable industry is far more than that. It is a monument to the men who conceivedit and to those who little by little developed the wonderful machinery that makes it possible. Each perfect product it turns out voices the skill, patience, and faithfulness of scores of workmen. More than that, an industry is the weapon of the wage-earner—the means by which he and his family are protected from want and unhappiness. Hence every conscientious manufacturer performs a double service to mankind: he gives to the world something that it needs, and he furnishes his fellow-man with a means of livelihood. Regarded in this light it is no unworthy calling to be a manufacturer."

"I think both the man at the head of the firm, and the men who share in the work are doing their bit," put in Theo.

"The one is dependent on the other," affirmed Mr. Croyden. "It is a matter of equality. In fact, it would be hard to tell which of the two is the more indebted to the other—the employer or the employee. It is in this spirit that I try to run this great plant. I blunder, it is true; I suppose we all do that. But I sincerely believe laborshould have an honored place, and so far as I am concerned I give it one. If I had a boy," Mr. Croyden's voice faltered, "If I had a boy," he repeated more firmly, "he should be brought up to touch his cap to the laborer as well as to the capitalist; and he should be made to feel that the trade school is as praiseworthy a place as is the college. The two simply furnish different types of education."

Theo acquiesced.

"Your father and I represent these two types," continued Mr. Croyden. "When you grow up you will have to choose which of them you will follow. I know you will choose wisely and well. But you must never forget that it is the ideal behind what you do that transforms a calling from a gray, dead, monotonous vocation into a glowing, living, interesting career. You can be a routine doctor, seeing only the dull round of aches and pains; or you can be the Great Physician who continues God's work of healing on the earth. As for the manufacturer—in this field, too, you can be the mere money-getter who crowds down andignores those who have helped him to amass his wealth; or you can be the profit-sharer and co-worker. It all rests with yourself. It will not be the fault of the task you choose but the littleness of your vision if you dwarf your life and find your horizon small."

Long afterward Theo Swift remembered those words, and when on his twenty-second birthday he entered the Trenton mills, there to be trained to assume a partnership in the business, it was with the aim that as a captain of industry he would serve his generation.

The Stories in this Series are:THE STORY OF COTTONTHE STORY OF GOLD AND SILVERTHE STORY OF LUMBERTHE STORY OF WOOLTHE STORY OF IRONTHE STORY OF LEATHERTHE STORY OF GLASSTHE STORY OF SUGARTHE STORY OF SILKTHE STORY OF PORCELAIN


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