Читать книгу Forest Glen; or, The Mohawk's Friendship онлайн

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"By the time this stone needs picking, I'll make a bale to take it off and put it on without an ounce of iron."

Honeywood, who was a blacksmith, laughed at him, and said it was impossible; to which Mr. Seth replied,—

"A man who has always worked in iron has very little idea of what can be done with wood."

He was now leisurely at work, redeeming that pledge. Having procured from the woods a rock-maple tree of suitable shape, he made a crane of proper size and shape to swing over the stone, hewing the timber to a proud edge, and working it smooth with adze and plane. In that portion of the arm that when the crane was set up would come directly over the centre of the stone, he made a five-inch hole, perfectly smooth and plumb, and cut a screw-thread on the inside of it with a rude machine of his own invention.

His next labor was to make a screw to work in this arm; and he made it from a piece of timber that he had blocked out when the mill was built, and put away to season.

While thus engaged, Mr. Seth had the company and heartfelt sympathy of all the children of any size in the Run, and most of their elders, as there were but very few in the settlement who had ever seen a screw-thread cut, or even a wooden screw.