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348 ONCE A WEEK. [October 22, 1859.

“I think not, if we manage rightly.”

“But there is no machinery made for the purpose.”

“Well, then, we must make it for ourselves.”

“But if we do, other people will imitate it, and we should be no better off than before.”

“But suppose the other people do it first, where shall we be?”

“Very true, sir. But it is so large a thing to do.”

“And is not the iron machinery a large thing?”

“Well, so it is, sir. But how shall we begin, the pieces of timber are so heavy?”

“Not heavier than iron. Suppose we begin with boring a hole at yonder drill. Only, as the cutting of wood requires a quicker speed than cutting iron, you must multiply with a larger shaft wheel and a smaller pulley.”

The drill was altered, and holes were bored — varying from six inches to a quarter of an inch — through great thicknesses of timber. The next thing was to put the timber on a wheel-frame on a small rail, so that it could be moved in any direction. By means of a pattern or template every separate hole was marked on the timber and applied beneath the drill.

While this operation was performed, Chanter was sent to look at the operations at a neighbour- ing factory for planing and grooving flooring- boards for builders. He came back with the full conviction that henceforward wood must be worked wholly by machinery. Only hard wood required very different machinery from soft wood.

One after another, machines were constructed for the various operations of sawing, planing, grooving, cutting mortices and tenons, and boring holes. One difficulty after another was sur- mounted, trial after trial made till the whole was complete. It was settled that the machines should be worked by men and boys paid by the day, inasmuch as the interest of the pieceman being to get through the work, the dayman would be kept up to the mark. All seemed to go well, when one morning Chanter, with his face red with passion, entered the private office of John Smith.

“Here’s a pretty set-to, sir; these scamps of workmen say they won’t use the machinery.”

“Why not?”

“They say it’s of no use to them, and they shall turn out rather than take to it.”

“Well, Chanter, I can’t force them to use it. Can you?”

Chanter was very savage. He was always just to the workmen, and was indignant at what seemed to him their injustice.

“Well, sir, what shall we do?”

“Why, Chanter, as the men say they won’t use the machinery, and you can’t force them, and I don’t intend to try to force them, you must even give them the work out for hand-make at the usual prices.”

“But the machinery, sir! after all this expense and trouble.”

“Well, it won’t want to eat, will it, Chanter? won’t have a Saturday night?”

“Well no, sir. That’s true.”

“Very well, oil it, and take no further notice.”

The work was given out, and a few days after, John Smith, who had carefully watched the laborious processes of handicrafting in sawing, and hewing, and planing, and boring the heavy timbers, caused it to be made known that the men might, if they chose, save their labour by using the machinery, without any other charge than the time of the daymen who worked it at a mere fraction of cost to them. John Smith professed himself satisfied with the saving of material, and left them to their own devices.

In a very short time the men brought piece after piece to the machines, the axe, and the augur, and the saw were gradually abandoned, and mere drudgery became distasteful. One morning Chanter came in to the master.

“Well, sir, these scamps have set the machines at work at everything they can do, and the piece- men will have a balance of forty pounds a -piece to take above their draw at the end of the job. I’ll pay them off for it at the next lot of work. We shall get it so cheap, that all the trade will come to us.”

“Won’t do, Chanter!” said John Smith. “You are like a great boy. I remember when I was a boy, and went fishing. So sure as I snapped at my hook too quick, I lost my fish.”

“Well, sir, you don’t mean to let them go on having the machines for nothing!”

“I don’t mean to have a turn-out of these men urged on by other men!”

So the next work was given out on the same terms as though no machinery existed. This time the men devised more jobs for the machines than had originally been planned. Their profits were greater than ever. This time John Smith called Chanter to him.

“Let all the wood machinery be pulled down, and packed up, next week.”

Chanter stared. “Pull down the machinery!”

“Yes! Did not the men say it was of no use?”

The news went forth that the machinery was to be pulled down. The piecemen were aghast at the prospect of losing profits, and the daymen, who had learned to avoid drudgery, were in ill plight. In a day or two a deputation came in to make an application to John Smith against the removal of the machinery.

“Why, my men, how is this? You were going to turn out because I put up the machinery, and now you seem disposed to turn out because I take it down. You are hard to deal with. Did you not say at the outset it was of no use?”

“Why, so we did,” faltered out one of the men; “but we find it is of some use.”

“Oh, it is, is it? Well, then, you must settle with the foreman of how much use it is.”

“Can’t we settle it with you, sir?”

“No; I have other matters to attend to. The foreman is to settle between you and me on what terms you can work. He is an honest man, and if you be honest men, you will own that your motive in turning out against the machinery was the fear of having your wages lowered, and you now find that you have had them unfairly