Quirky

At the beginning of the month I spoke of the router slash quirk beader slash not entirely certain yet woodie etc that I'd purchased, and promised pics. Being a woman of my word:

 Well so far, so unremarkable.

Underneath, it all gets a bit "Um". The fence is such as you might find on a coachbuilder's grooving router or some such, but otherwise it ticks the box for "homemade moulding router". Which appears to pretty much tick the box for "scratch stock", as far as I can tell. Unfortunately I'm not sure it ticks any box terribly successfully. I really need to sort out a better solution to the (overlong) wood screw holding the fence (because it's inevitably rusted all to heck) and then try it and hope my fears are not confirmed.

But even if it's a total lemon, I still kinda like it.

Stone The Crows

Tsk. Nobody fell for the anti-April Fool then, and my hints that maybe I was claiming a larger find than I actually had; you're a tough lot of fish to hook. Or I'm too subtle. Should have got the North Korean news agency to do the photoshoppery - they'd have made it less convincing. Anyway, because the rule really doesn't give a good feeling of the size, here 'tis next to a 8x2 Washita.

By a stroke of good fortune, whist finding out about this stone, I was also able to identify one I've had for years. I think it came from the patternmaker's hoard, but not absolutely sure; would have to check my (sketchy) records. Anyway, rather a nice mahogany box.

Within which is a soft-ish, fine-ish stone with the most amazing "grain". Or whatever it is that bits of rock have. Very distinctive.

It appears it's from Bonny Scotland and is a Dalmore Blue. Around 4000-5000 grit, which sounds about right. Alas, bit of a chip from one end, but still, a nice stone to use. I'd kind of forgotten about it, but maybe I should dig it out and put it to work again. Seem to be slipping into the world of water stones without realising it here...

While in stone mood, I also put a straight edge across my translucent Arkansas, just to see how badly it wasn't flat after regular use and no flattening for several years. Apparently I've been so keen not to dish it, it's actually infinitesimally convex. Ah, the advantages of the largely guide-free honing life.

Stoned

So Saturday was, shock horror, not a bad day. That flaming ball of gas in the sky, that I was starting to think was just a legend, actually put in an appearance.

Spring? Sun? A not-so-young galoot's mind turns naturally to The Hunt. Yep, I went to the car boot sale.

What with one thing and another, we were a bit on the latish side, but as there was little to no sign of any tool vending apart from the box o' rusty spanners and screwdrivers variety, I suspect I didn't miss much. Was I downhearted? Nah. Not really. Shouldn't be buying anyway - should be selling.

Anyway, went into the market to see what our long-established tool pusher had amongst his wares. Answer: lots. The place has suddenly blossomed into planes, and had the pleasure of seeing a Sargent VBM (Very Best Made, I believe) Jointer, which is not a make I ever expected to lay eyes on in the wild. Very nice it was too, and if I hadn't had a will of iron that I would not buy another jointer plane, I might well have succumbed.

Instead I just get to sit here kicking myself that I didn't succumb. Heigh ho.

Also a couple of small swing braces (resisted), coupla T-handled augers (resisted), a WS jack plane, that whispered that I ought to be ashamed that I didn't own a single WS Manufacturing tool (resisted) and many other delights. Also a router slash quirk beader slash not entirely certain yet woodie, which I didn't resist. I suspect it might be a regular coachbuilder's router that's been given a new beading blade, but have yet to clean it up to see. Or take a picture. I'll rectify that some other time; don't grumble at me.

Also, amongst the sharpening stones, was a larger pine box that caught my eye.

Filthy, battered and unlovely. I opened it expecting the classic sway-backed artificial stone with a lot of space around it.

No space. Big stone. And it's yellow. The size would have got me asking the inevitable "How much?" But yellow got a little bell going off in my head, because I suspected I knew what it was. Oily, greasy, and revolting as it was, I took a punt and bought it at the asked for Five Earth Pounds. Zoicks. I could end up feeling very foolish if I'm wrong.

After a little elbow grease - okay, a lot of elbow grease - you can handle the box without going "Ewwwww". I had to lightly plane the base to get it to sit on a level surface again, but otherwise I tried not to remove anything but the crud.

A previous owner took the trouble to nail a nice decorative bead round the lid. It's not the most attractive stone box you'll ever see, but I like it. You can see where it's been used as a handy backing for one or two boring operations, and a ring where I'm betting a glue pot was rested on it.

Anyway, after a good deal of scrubbing, and a bit of lapping, my hunch appears to be confirmed. It's a Belgian Yellow Coticule; a fine water stone from The Ardennes. They're still quarrying them now, but they're spendy.

Close-up of the surface. The straight razor enthusiasts appear to love them. I was a bit concerned the years of use with oil might have knackered it, but it made a slurry okay and seems to be fine. It's not the first water stone I've acquired that spent years as an oil stone and showed no ill-effects, so I begin to suspect that the variety of stone - and whether it's artificial or not - could be rather important.

And to give you an idea of the size. Trying to avoid casting a shadow and such I ended up with the rule at entirely the wrong angle. The stone is actually a whopping 12 3/4in long and a tad over 3in wide. Perspective, eh? Can be a deceiving blighter. As you can see, I haven't lapped the entire surface. I figure there's plenty of room to use at either end to bring the ends down level naturally over time.

Only reference to such a large stone I can find is from Jim Kingshott in Sharpening, The Complete Guide where he says:

"Belgium stones are available and are used in the musical instrument-making trade for sharpening knives and other small tools. This does not mean that the stone is only obtainable in small sizes. I have a piece that is 12in long, 2 3/4in wide and 1in thick (305mm x70mm x 25mm). The Belgium is a fine stone that cuts at a reasonable speed. It makes a good finishing tool; I use it for wide plane irons."

So I reckon I did okay, no? Not such a foolish purchase.

Old Widder Women

Still ignoring the hunks of lignum vitae disguised as lawn bowls, let me instead talk about the plane as seen in Monday's group shot.

You may legitimately argue that I really don't need any more wooden moulding planes to clean up and not use, and you'd have a point. But this one struck me as potentially useful and not often seen, 'cos look. It's a V plane.

I make it a 67° V, the significance of which eludes me, so I suspect the "looks about right" school of tool making. Coincidentally my very own alma mater. Iron is pitched at 55°, which if memory serves, is "middle pitch" and intended for softwoods. Oh well, can't win them all.

My initial thought was "User-converted Round", but I see that John Whelan in The Wooden Plane lists under "Other Angle Cutting Planes" the official existence of such animals, so I assume they were commercially available. Or else folks were per force reduced to converting rounds as a matter of course and planemakers were failing to say "Oh look, there's a market to exploit." The latter, in particular, a likelihood I frankly doubt. Anyway, Whelan:

  A molding plane with a V-shaped sole has no common name in English other than V-plane. These have various uses. A small one is sometimes used to relieve the inner edges of a groove joint to facilitate entry of the mating tongue. The partitions in pigeon-hole racks are sometimes bevelled at their edges and held in place by V-shaped grooves, cut by the V-plane. Fitted with a movable fence, it cuts a decorative groove in matched boards or a groove in panelling as a start for linen-fold carving.

See? Useful. Especially if I get the urge to put pigeons in racks some time.

As is so often the frustrating case, a previous user has not only obliterated the name of a user yet more previous, but also done his best on the maker's mark too. But I defy you, W. Roberts, and with some judicious tilting and squinting under various light conditions, I made it out as "HOLBROOK".

To the Batmobile! Or rather the ever-useful 3rd Edition of British Planemakers from 1700. Which isn't as fast, but has lower fuel costs. Although periodically I see what kind of prices that darn book is currently commanding, and am briefly tempted to cash in the gas in the tank, so to speak. Then it comes through with another fascinating bit of history, and I know I'd miss it too much. Anyway, Holbrook.

HOLBROOK, George ----------------- Bristol
Narrow Wine St. ----------------- 1799 - 1815
9 All Saints St. ----------------- 1816 - 1822

HOLBROOK, John
9 All Saints St. ----------------- 1823 - 1838

HOLBROOK, Martha Lucy
The Holbrook Plane Manufactory, -- 1839 - 1849
8 & 9 All Saints St.

Hit the brakes! To my extreme delight we appear to have a connection to a Merry Planemaking Widow. BPMs has a fair sprinkling of such ladies, who carried on the business after the demise of their husbands. I doubt they were knee-deep in beech shavings, cranking out the complex moulders - more that they owned the workshop (more often than not, they were living over the shop, after all), and a trusted former apprentice or foreman of the old man's would be in charge of the actual wood butchery.

But it gets better. Back to BPMs:

  After 1849 the Holbrook Plane Manufactory was listed under S. Barton in the directory and the subsequent history can be found under that entry. However, it is apparent that they continued to mark the planes HOLBROOK. CO [common]

Okay, so we're obviously going to be opening up the time period on this a little more, although at no point did I get a vibe this was a plane dating from Daddy George's time anyway. Let us repair to S. Barton's locale. It's not far.

BARTON, S ----------------- Bristol
9 All Saint's St. ----------------- 1849 - 1853

Told you it wasn't far. Gets better.

BARTON, Mrs Martha Lucy ----------------- 1855 - 1873
Holbrook's Plane Factory, All Saint's St.

Yep, that's right. Not just one planemaker's widow, but two. These days you'd probably be looking with suspicion at this whole thing and making a four hour mini-series out of it, emphasis heavy on the intrigue and the chances of further planemakers propping up the patio, chez Martha. But we'll assume Martha wasn't a serial terminator of Bristol planemakers, just readily attached to them. Like Marilyn Monroe's character in Some Like It Hot was to saxophone players, but possibly for more practical reasons. BPMs explains some of it:

  Stephen Barton was the son of Adam Barton, a saw maker and tavern keeper, whose business (started in 1812 and continuing until at least 1870) was next door to George Holbrook. Stephen married John Holbrook's widow, Martha Lucy, and took over the Holbrook Plane Manufactory. After his death(?) in 1853, Martha Lucy continued to run the Holbrook Plane Manufactory until 1873. As there is only one report of a plane marked BARTON, BRISTOL and numerous planes marked HOLBROOK, it must be assumed that this was the mark used by the factory, whoever was in charge.

Whoever was in charge? Who are we kidding? I'm betting it was Martha Lucy. And what happened to her after 1873? Died, one presumes.

Or did she go hunting a Greenslade...?

On Safari

I love the smell of rust in the morning - it smells like... well, lots of work to clean up, to be honest. But aside from that, fresh rust means new old tools and discoveries. In other words I had a little relapse on Saturday (that'll be an old tool hunting relapse, as opposed to the other things I've had a relapse over recently, such as chisels, books, and so forth).

Set aside the plane and the four hunks of lignum vitae cunningly disguised as lawn bowls for the time being. Yes, I know, I know. Another brace. Not a brace of pedigree either - indeed it's already been described in terms of "Woolworths". And not in a good "Lovely pick'n'mix" kind of way. But have I not already confessed to a weakness for braces of unusual size or design or make? Yes, I have. This one ticks the middle box, because I can't recall seeing a brace with a Yankee-a-like ratchet mechanism before.

Mind you, my memory's not what it was. Apart from that, this has very little merit really, apart from being a handy 8in. sweep and if not half, at least two thirds lighter (and 100% better balanced) than the Stanley equivalent already in my arsenal.

Having cleaned it up, alas it speaketh only unto the word "Foreign" on both the frame and the chuck shell. Somewhere or other I read that indicates likely between the two wars of German manufacture as, for understandable reasons, German stuff wasn't the first choice of the average Brit at the time. It's been a bit hammered by the aforementioned rust, and it's not going to win any prizes as a superior example of brace technology, but I kinda like it.

Reckon it'll make a good screwdriver when I next need to talk the torque.

More Sacrilege

Well this week I'm left, Cinderella-like, here at Alf Towers - which usually means I get some solid, uninterrupted workshop time. That was the plan. Then on Saturday I managed to pull something-or-other in my back, and now it's not the plan quite so much. Sigh. I wouldn't have minded if it had been caused by lifting some heavy baulk of Southern Yellow Pine or summat - but I was moving a packet of sausages from one freezer drawer to another. Double sigh.

But let that be a warning, kids. Sausages really are bad for you...

However, the Saturday before last, I did manage a little light rust hunting, and succumbed to my mumblefourthmumble hand cranked grinder. I confess I fell for the solidity of the tool rest on it; I know nothing of Fabrex Tools Ltd except they also seem to have made a solid-looking wheel brace as well.

Not to mention the little built-in drill bit grinding rest. Cool. Of course I've never reground a drill bit in my life, and had hitherto had absolutely no plans to start, but that's not the point.

Only hitch-ette with the solidity of the tool rest, is it's brought about by a nifty slide-y dovetail-y groovy set up - that does not tilt.

So ideally I wanted another, tilt-y rest that could pop over the top, and yet get out of the way when a 90° grind - or a newly sharpened drill bit - was required. At which point I had a bit of a brainwave about what to use to make one, that'd not only provide a nice robust surface, but also an effective heat sink.

Can you tell what it is? Are you ready?

The easily shocked might be best to turn away now.

No, really, I mean it.

Well I warned you...

Yes, it's the toe of a #4 1/2.

It wasn't a good #4 1/2 of any pedigree at all. More to the point, I already have a task for the rest of the body, so otherwise this bit'd go to waste. It's a Good Thing, honestly.

Also, cast iron really is the loveliest stuff to tap. It's a wildly inaccurate description, but I can't help thinking of it as somehow "buttery". Lovely stuff. And really, it's probably just as well I get out this desire to tap threads in plane bodies on stuff like this, isn't it, boys and girls? Yes, I rather think it is.

Anyway, works a treat; little bit higher on the wheel than ideal, but a necessary evil to avoid the existing rest and still have a tilt range. Best of all, the half lap for the base went together "just so" right off the saw, which cheered me up no end. Of course I was extra happy to get to the woodworking bit, metalwork being a ghastly, dirty business which I like not at all. No wonder amateur woodworking seems to overflow with engineers; blessed relief to them to be clean for once, I should think... ;)

Potential

Last week there was an auction on da 'Bay for a tool chest. It was down here in Cornwall, pick up only. Obvious water damage and the sparse description spoke of rusty tools but showed nary a one. One of those things where you tell yourself it's nothing but spanners so orange with rust that they look like they've had an unfortunate accident in a spray tanning booth.

But in your heart, you wishfully dream of Stanley #1s and ebony bridle ploughs.

Now I don't do Ebay. At all. I dare not, because I will be bankrupt within a week. Tops. So I was happily ignorant of this tool chest, potentially full of promise but in all likelihood actually full of rust. But I have thoughtful readers out there, ever ready to apply a heap of grease to the soles of my feet and give me a hearty shove further down The Slope. They even smile and wave as they do it, the considerate sw-... people.

So not one, but two emails arrived in my inbox saying "Hey, Alf, have you seen this?" and helpfully pointing this tool chest out. In fairness there wasn't long to withstand before the listing ended, but by gum, what a test for me and my notoriously sparse willpower. I mean, c'mon, guys; would you sit a recovering alcoholic down in front of a bottle of whisky? And this wasn't even a good single malt, but some home-brewed potcheen that'd likely cause blindness. Sheesh. ;)

Anyway, by now you're already shaking your head and saying "I know where this goes. You gave in, didn't you, Alf? Come on then, where is it?" Well ya boo sucks. I resisted to the bitter end. Okay, so I may have looked when the auction ended, just in case it hadn't sold and maybe consider contacting the seller and asking "What about it?"

But it sold.

So that's all right then. Don't mind at all. Best result. Dying of curiosity, wondering what was in it? Me? Don't be silly.

I'm fine.

So when I open the local paper this week, automatically perusing the classified ads, it was with some despair that I realised even without the helpful emails (Which really I love to get, guys. Honest), I'm still perfectly capable of torturing myself.

It's fine. I'm absolutely fine. If there was anything worth having, it will have already sold. Wooden planes? Who needs 'em? The chances of there being anything by Madox or Gabriel or... No. It's fine.

Odds are heavily against a bridle plough too.

Tools in Them Thar Hills

A few weeks ago, I got an email from Katie Penna at Tresamble Trading, a new venture purveying fine tools. Mainly gardening, but branching out into woodworking tools too - and locally, here in the back of tool beyond that is Cornwall. Woot. How I didn't feel the pull of rust in the vicinity, I know not, but I know of it now, and as I was in the area, stopped off yesterday at the market in Truro to say "Howdy" in person.

Kids, it was a good thing I had no cash on me, because a rather nice panel gauge (which you can probably spot in the dismal pic that is all my iPod is able to divvy up) and a very spiffy chamfer plane (Which I failed to include in the frame, but registered highly on the gizmocity scale for a woodie) both sang their siren song. But I was good and plugged my ears. I may have lain awake thinking about them for only a couple of hours last night and wondering if I was foolish not to hightail it down the road to the bank and withdrawing the necessary then and there. But no, I was good. And I may have blown my non-existant tool budget just recently anyway...

Anyway, there is a website, but there are plans to include more stock on it and so forth, so I'll probably blog again when that happens and I add it to Ze Master List.

More local tool purveying is always a Good Thing, and there do seem to be quite a few interested parties knocking about so the interest in old tools is certainly alive and well in Cornwall. As Katie observed, it's a shame there isn't a local gathering of same really. Apparently even the Devon & Cornwall branch of TATHS has ceased to be, which is a shame.

Although I can talk - I've never joined TATHS. Whenever I considered it and how the events and meetings are all far up country, when it came to the crunch and the question of the membership fee I couldn't help thinking "But I could buy tools with that!"

Seven Year Itch

Would you believe it's seven whole years today since I started this blog? No, me neither. Don't bother going and looking at the inaugural post though - it's not 'ticularly interesting. Anyway, apparently Copper or Wool is the traditional material to mark seven years. Pish, sez I. Yea, even Tush. Iron and steel it is then:

Despite everyone's best efforts to get me to buy more chisels on Saturday, I only came away with this combination square. I never buy squares usually, but it appealed to me somehow - and I do seem to be in a metrological frame of mind at the moment. I got the general impression that the collective tool gurus present reckoned I was slightly off my nut buying it, but hey, a girl gets to the point where she needs to get her hands on something freshly rusted and painted-spotted, and this fit the bill all-too admirably.

A bit of TLC and elbow grease later, and a not displeasing result.

Nothing particularly special - as far as I can gather, Stanley churned No.21s out by the thousands over the years. But I like it; it feels good in the hand (and considerably better than the fancier, more expensive, and newer 12" combi square I already own - and never use as a result).

At some point I must find the patent and discover the purpose of the slot. I've got a vague impression of some sort of sliding bevel feature, but have yet to explore it fully. 'Cos yeah, I needed another thing that could do duty as a sliding bevel like I need a hole in the head. Or another chisel.

Wazzat den?

I get quite a few requests for tool identification, one way of another. I quite like the ones on an open forum, because generally discussion expands and everybody learns something.

Email requests of the "I'm about to sell these tools on eBay - what are they and what are they worth?" I'm less enamoured with. No-one learns anything but the seller, a complete stranger, who - not to put too fine a point on it - is looking to make extra profit off knowledge I've taken time and trouble to acquire. Amazingly enough I wasn't born into the world knowing this stuff. My fairy godmother failed to gift me with a copy of Salaman's Dictionary and the 3rd Edition of British Planemakers at my cribside. (I know, I know. You just can't get the calibre of fairy godmother these days.) In other words they've got a ruddy nerve asking me, and these days I just tend to delete and not even suggest they look up completed auctions on eBay.

Harsh, ain't I?

Often the most fun can be found viewing stuff "in the flesh". It's a downside of having lived around here and interested in old tools for sufficiently long that enough folks know who I am when I wander round a car boot sale. As a result it's very hard to buy rusty crud when you're supposed to know what you're buying. One has a reputation for discernment, don'tcha know - I don't know how or why, but apparently one does... And then you also get the testers. The "So then Alf, you'll know what this is?" with a grin and a general feeling that you're suddenly surrounded by banana skins. Reckon it's just about a score draw when it comes to correct identification vs. falling on my posterior, but a good laugh is had by all...

But then there are the genuine "What's this then?" Yes, there are banana skins available here too, but we've all got an equal chance of slipping on them. Yesterday, in a rather damp and disappointing Pool Market, I was confronted by a nifty little gadget that I just knew I'd seen before. A three armed little tool with tap, reamer and turnscrew, one on the end of each arm, trefoil style, and a corresponding die in the middle. 26tpi, 3/8", "British Made" and a name that looked to me like "J Hughnes". Frank, who presides over the now somewhat large tool emporium within the market walls, thought maybe something for bikes. Seemed plausible, except I wouldn't recognise anything bike-related (motor or push) if you waved it up and down in front of my nose and described it to me over a loud hailer - and yet this I knew I'd seen before. Alas, I couldn't drag the memory to the surface and I had to admit defeat, but, for the record, did mention I thought it might be in the MAC catalogue and I'd have a look.

The MAC catalogue is a huge volume produced by The Metal Agencies Co. Ltd of Bristol. If you're familiar with the Buck & Hickman catalogues, it's kinda like that but with added bathroom fittings, paint, tiles, and generally everything you'd need for property maintenance. And then some. Fascinating tomes, and thanks to an incredibly generous forum member, I have four of them; here's the latest one from September 1937. Thin, innit?

So, nearly spraining my wrist taking it down from the shelf, I turned to the section devoted to taps and dies. Turning to page 1307, I admit I allowed a rather smug smile to steal across my face, for lo! It seems the effects of the aluminium pans aren't entirely fatal yet, and my memory of where I'd seen the mystery tool was not at fault:

Arguably this is Bad News for Frank, because somehow I don't imagine demand for Gasfitter's Combination Burner Taps is terribly high these days. But you never know. It makes me think though; a combination of die and taper, second and plug taps all in one tool would be pretty cool, wouldn't it? Probably practical reasons why not, I dare say, but still cool.

Anyway, it turned out they were in Buck & Hickman too; just not as clear an engraving, so I'd overlooked them. Which goes to show the importance of pretty pictures when grabbing the attention of such tool butterflies as myself...

By chance I also met the Tall Scotsman in the finely falling rain, and we caught up a little. Just as soon as he sends me the details, I will plug his new emporium in Hayle. Indeed, if I can convince the transport manager, I think a road trip and site report might be nice, eh? Pig's might fly, but I can but try. Anyway, courtesy of another passing tool addict, he ended up describing another sort-of mystery tool to me. Yeah, it was one of those days.

Viz: An adze, but with a straight blade, the head at at an acute angle to the round eye, a hammer poll, and a keyhole slot such as on an old Stanley lever cap in the centre of the blade. Again, this rang bells. Someone had said they used them in their workplace making rustic style rail fences - the posts coming already with sockets for the rails, but the end of the rails themselves needing shaping to fit. We don't get a lot of those round here, instead favouring enormous lumps of granite hidden in hedges just waiting to remove vehicular paintwork, so our lack of knowledge of such a fencing tool wouldn't be surprising. However, the TS had yet to check Salaman, which it turns out was A Bit Silly, because there - if I'm not mistaken - it is on page 30. Viz: A Turkish Adze.

Salaman sez: "A straight blade with flat chequered poll and round eye. Usually has a key-hole shaped slot for pulling nails. Still used in the East as a general purpose tool."

So there we have it, and have also clearly demonstrated that I really didn't appear on the planet already knowing this stuff. With my works of reference I'm a genius - and you could be too. However, without them, I do have a nifty line in expressions of vaguely knowledgable puzzlement and that, my friends, takes talent... ;)

Bevel Bother

'Tis a curious thing that as soon as I resolved that I was over the old tool rust hunting and would devote myself to clearing up the backlog of existing rust instead, I seem to have found myself regularly at the car boot sale. It's not entirely my fault, honest. But anyway, I've been very good and stern with myself for the last few weeks. No buying - unless it's something unusual, special, or otherwise ticks a "need" box rather than just a "want" one. 12 or 14 inch brace - yes. Another chisel just because it appeals to me - NO!

So it's extraordinarily cruel of the tool gods to deposit large quantities of lovely tools into the care of The Tall Scotsman, which he then spreads out before my wondering eyes, is it not? Chisels and gouges and auger bits and Disston this, that, and the other. Sigh. You can only push a person so far, and this one probably comes under the "might need one day, and wouldn't I kick myself then?" category.

A drawer lock chisel by I. Sorby, 5/8" and 5/16". Obviously ideally I'd have liked to find it in the rusty tool box of one of the household clearance guys and have paid 50p for it, but these things only seem to happen to other people. Who get up earlier...

As you can see, it requires some attention to its cutting edges - which'll have to wait until there aren't two boxes of chisels between me and my sharpening kit. But there's the thing; what should be going on with those bevels? Indeed, what goes on with drawer lock chisels and the orientation of the edges? The L-N ones are quite differently set up via-a-vis which way which width of edge points in which direction, but then is Chris Becksvoort's method the only way to use them? Garrett Hack in Classic Hand Tools, shows using one to fit the whole lock in the drawer, for instance. Now I looked at the double-sided bevel on the narrow edge of the I. Sorby and could imagine you might alternatively just mark the sides with the wide edge and then pop down a series of cuts the length of the mortise like it was for a hinge, or, well, a mortise. After all, it seems to me that the short ends of the mortise are much less important for fit of the lock bolt than the sides. No?

The outside bevel on the 5/8" edge though, that would just seem to be all wrong at first thought. But then I wondered "what's the difference?" If the edge was inside, you'd still have one awkward position where the body of the chisel would have to be facing away from you, but this way round the least awkward, and thus likely cleaner cut, is the one nearest the front of the carcass and thus most likely to ever get seen.

Or, should there be a second chisel? One with a single bevel on the narrow edge, and an inside bevel on the wide edge? Or should both edges be bevelled on both sides? I shall, naturally, be hitting the books on this one, but anyone with practical experience - or just a well-argued opinion - is welcomed into the comments box.

Animal Magic

Pausing to de-cobweb my hair and cease moving things from box A to box B and back again, how about a tool moment? Last Saturday I indulged the Chisel Monster again (and its close cousin, the Gouge Glutton) and purchased the following. A nice cleanish Marples 1/2" in-cannel gouge, and an oval bolstered mortise chisel.

The latter had evidently been re-handled (and has some sort of putty in lieu of a leather washer), but was reasonably appealing, so, y'know, why not? Okay, okay - I know why not. Just... don't say it. Its width is a fraction more than 3/16", and actually near as dammit 5mm, while the serrated border to the almost illegible maker's mark suggested maybe it had a little bit of age.

At the time I couldn't make out more than the obvious beginnings of "Cast Steel", but the smudgy shape in the rust before it suggested there might be a clue to maker when I got it cleaned up. And indeed, as you see, you can make out an animal "couchant", as our heraldic friends would have it. (Okay, so a combination of practice and extrapolation can help when it comes to seeing such a smudge as something other than a smudge) Anyway, odds are always heavily on that being a lion, so I hit that excellent resource for the tool hunter...

..."Trademarks on Base-metal Tableware". Lucky for us so many tool makers didn't confine their wares to just those of the w'shop, eh? And joyously, you can search the PDF for such things as "Animal: lion, couchant" and behold, top right, I believe we have a winner:

I do like it when you can do that, don't you? Makes up for all the times when the mark stays illegible or you just can't find the name anywhere.

But enough fun; back to the grindstone. *tosses pigsticker into "chisels, for refurb" box and returns to the cobwebs*

X marks the spot

"I'll tell you what I've heard myself," continued Captain Smollett: "that you have a map of an island, that there's crosses on the map to show where treasure is, and that the island lies—" And then he named the latitude and longitude exactly.

Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson

No treasure here, but if you were to add a couple more hold fast holes, where would you put them? I have a notion, but input welcome before I turn the thing into Swiss Cheese. The grid is to (possibly) make explanation easier. e.g. The existing holdfast hole is on the border of C4/D4.

Of course I can multi-task and am thus able to dither over that and other things all at the same time. What can I say? It's a gift. So I'm also wondering about my board jack/sliding deadman/bench slave conundrum. Sensible suggestions have appeared in the comments box, for which I thank you. But something held in the tail vice is only good for boards of about 4 ft long and more, which seems to be of dubious advantage for much of what I do. A separate standing bench slave appeals because it means I don't have to do any more evil to the bench itself, but I worry about the uneven nature of the floor and whether another "thing" to store in the mythical land of "Somewhere" won't be more trouble that it's worth.

My inclination is towards a sliding board jack, always ready to use, mounted on the bench. But I have 6" (150mm) of overhang to accommodate, and the only solution I've (so far) found to the problem is from the bods at Lie-Neilsen, as seen here on the Woodworking Magazine blog, and also here on "Tom's Workbench". But it's a butt-ugly solution, to my eye. L-N must have thought so too, because they certainly haven't added it to the benches in that style that they sell. But I keep toying with the idea and wondering if something along the same lines, but with less workbench trestle abuse and more elegance is possible. I'm open to suggestions on that too.

Mind you, perhaps I'm over-complicating this and just a row of holdfast holes along the front edge of the bench top would be just as useful for my purposes? Or would a surface clamp be better than a hold fast in that situation anyway? Aaargh, so many options a person doesn't know what to do!

So I did something else entirely. I took the Stanley 1221K hand drill that I cleaned up when I was doing the M-F #2 the other day, and I... Well, let's just say it's gone from this: (top right corner

To this:

And then to this:

I feel a little bit unclean; I don't repaint tools. But it has a hole in the handle, a missing tooth in the gear wheel, the gear wheel itself looks like it was cast by a blind man, and the chuck is seized up so I can't fix the sticking jaws - I figured anything I did was only going to improve it. But mainly I figured the gear wheel would be rusting endlessly if I didn't paint it. The only thing against doing it was the fact no-one seems to know much about a 1221K; it's a Stanley "Defiance" model, but unlike the K-less 1221, it has a side handle. What is it with me and unusual egg beaters anyway...?

Millers Falls, and so do I

If the reader would cast their mind or their browser back to earlier this month and the Rogers Patent Mitre Planer? Well I'd been doing a pretty good job of not thinking about it. I'd looked over the tools I had in a fit condition to sell, and it wasn't ever going to come close to the necessary quantity of lettuce, so not thinking about it was the sensible option.

Then last Friday, TTS drops me an email. Will I be at the car boot on the morrow (Saturday) and shall he bring the chute plane along for a show and tell? Well, yes, okay then. As you're offering...

You know how this goes, right? You see the thing. You fondle the thing. You even get to use the thing with the provided bit of softwood for the purpose. You fall for the thing and sell any passing grandmothers you can scrounge up. This is how it's supposed to go. I talked sternly to myself all the way there about how I wasn't going to do that.

And when it came to it, it was fine. It's a super cool bit of kit, and I'm so glad I've seen one for real, but the love has died. It takes up so much space, I'd be worrying about dropping something terminal on the castings all the time, and it's so effortless you feel a bit like you've taken a step back to using power tools. It's crazy, but it's just not for me. So if anyone's in the market for one of these babies, I can put you in touch with TTS without a pang.

Mind you, I didn't escape entirely. Managed to avoid the free saw this time (Go me!), resisted the rebating shave and the folding drawknife, but came unstuck on the open gear wheel of turn of the century example of a Millers Falls #2 hand drill and - you won't believe it - a Millers Falls #14 jack plane.

Oh dear, I've been doing so well in not buying old bench planes. I mean really well. I'd virtually forgotten how to go about cleaning one up, it's been so long. But I had sort of been on the lookout for a #5 for genuine jack plane work, and wanted something a bit different. I used to have a later USA-made Stanley, but sold it ages ago. It was clean, tidy and did the job, but I never quite warmed to it for some reason. I warmed to this one. Even when I discovered the sawdust of aeons under the frog...

But it wasn't so bad - the quality of finishing on the bits and pieces is sufficiently fine that they shrug the rust off pretty easily. Dunno if M-F bench planes are always so well made though; it's my first.

And my last. Yes, definitely my last. One is more than enough. Yup.

The iron's a bit ho-hum, so I embraced the ruler trick just to get it taking a shaving. Very pleased with it. And the grain on the front knob is just gorgeous. Okay, so a purist might have repaired the chip on the top of the horn of the tote, but it doesn't bother one in use, and a tool should be allowed to show the odd battle scar now and again.

The drill's got all sorts of niggles with it; the brass ferrule on the main handle has split (which apparently they often do), the ferrule on the crank knob is completely gone, and the doodah that bears on the gear wheel to keep it engaged is also MIA. On the other hand, whereas I thought the springs were missing from the chuck, it turns out to be a springless one that uses a grooved system. Very clever.

What I really fell for though, was the egg-shaped side handle. Obviously I need to brush up on my Millers Falls stuff via OldToolHeaven, because this all came newly to me. A total knuckle-mashing nightmare to hold for most users, it appears, but just for once the smaller hands win, and it seems just fine to me.

As you see, not a lot of paint left on it, but then it appears to date from somewhere between 1899 and 1906, so I reckon that's not unreasonable. Nice drill, and I can sort of see why it's so well-regarded a model. However, despite my best efforts, all hand drills are judged against the Record 124 now, and I'm afraid are coming up short. So is that the sound of me throwing away all my drills in disgust as a result?

Wadda you think? ;)

Tool talk

Enough of this workshop productivity; time for frivolity. Dunno about the rest of the country, but Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, and the mood came upon me to go out into the big wide world.

Okay, so to be strictly accurate, it came upon me to go and look at some rust that wasn't mine.

The tool gods apparently thought this was a Good Idea and smiled upon me, for barely had I reluctantly passed on a nearly new Stanley pin hammer and a unremarkable but crispy bradawl, but who should I then stumble upon? After a long, long gap, none other than The Tall Scotsman. (Yes, okay, so these days I know TTS's real name and need no longer describe him thus, but where's the fun in that?) We exchanged pleasantries, the dire state of tool dealing at the moment, and I was barely warmed up before he revealed he had recently tried, and failed, to sell a Rogers Patent Mitre Planer.

Kids! A Rogers Patent Mitre Planer! Anyone with a passing familiarity with my forum postings will be aware I have a something of a jones for this wondrous device. Where two woodworkers gather together to mutter about the Stanley #51/52, there will be Alf saying "Ah, yes, but what about the Rogers Patent Mitre Planer, eh?" To know there's one in the county at all, and for sale? Sheesh. So consider this a For Sale notice on a kidney. Your choice of left or right... Anyway, it seems the heathen still think the Stanley #52 is the dog's wotsits so at least I was able to bring enthusiasm and knowledge of the RPMP's existence to the party. And envy. Lots and lots of envy.

While still reeling from this information, I was lured in my weakened state to go and look through a couple of boxes of moulding planes, amongst which were some really nice examples. Some old ones too, including a Madox round, and a Nelson (but whether of London or the much earlier York, I couldn't make out), and some really nicely done repairs on well-worn side beads and whathaveyou. Some of them had as many as four or five previous owners names stamped upon them. Yes, I was desperately tempted, but the financial gods had seen fit to have my card ripped off last week, and until the new one comes I can't get any cash out. So I was pretty safe with only a fiver in my pocket. How else could I consider myself safe to step out to look at other people's rust? Anyway, it's early January. You don't expect to see anything worth having in early January.

So anyway, this lack of funds also luckily saved me from a crispy and complete Marples bow saw (with spare blades) and other goodies. Lucky, lucky me... But the conversation made up for it; it's rare to get a chance to talk tools face to face with someone who's eyes don't immediately glaze over. Alas, my time was, unfortunately tight (plus it was too perishing freezing to be standing about, nattering) and I had yet to visit my regular stop inside the market. But before I could get away, TTS, continuing the setting out of his wares, dragged a couple of saws out of his trailer, looked at them (they looked back, rustily), looked at me, and said "Here you go" or words to that effect.

I tried to give them back. I really did. Nope, he'd only bin them - take them. But he could at least sell the saw nuts, I pointed out. Nah, he'll just chuck them. And herein lies the problem. Like me, TTS, likes the tools as tools. The feel of them, the clever touches in design, or the way a previous owner has made it his. Breaking up tools to sell the bits does not really seem to be his thing. This is why I'm certainly never going to make my fortune from tools, and why I tried to give those saws back. Because while every fibre of sense in my being screams "Salvage the nuts and any of the plate that's worth having as scrapers and bin the rest", what actually happens if someone hands me a tool that's "had it", if there's even a glimmer of hope for that tool, I will try and rescue it. I will hate myself for doing it; I will swear and curse whoever let the poor thing get like that, but I will be compelled. And I need another tool to rescue like Chris Schwarz needs a another workbench...

So torn between gratitude and foreboding, I walked away with two saws. The top one's a straight-backed 6pt rip, nib all present and correct, that looks like it was never used. But the plate is fairly pitted and bent to boot. The other is a 22" Canadian Disston D8, 10tpi.

Yes, of course the handle of the rip has woodworm. It's a basket case.

But see how the saw nuts have never been tampered with? A fairly shapely handle too, just to rub salt into the wound.

The etch was lost to human sight on both, but I could just about make out "Disston" and "Canada" on the saw nut on the other one, under the rust. From looking at the Disstonian Institute, I reckon it dates from the mid- late-50s. Hah, modern crap. Only 50 years old... Previous owner didn't want to lose it and marked it with a diamond. Badly.

Probably the same guy who did the sharpening job on it. A more classic case of cows and calves you've never seen. Plate's all rusty, pitting front and back in one area and a slight curve along it too.

Yeah, they've "had it" all right. Bugger.

But in the meantime I popped into the inside market to check out the dealer in there. First up what do I see? The tidiest, cutest, most impractical workbench you've ever laid eyes on. A Sjobergs of the continental design, with a shoulder vice and tail vice. With wooden screws! But only about 3ft long all told. Threatened to tip over backwards if you breathed heavily on it, but an enterprising previous owner had braced the legs with ply and it actually resisted wracking pretty well.

Reader, I fell for it hook, line and sinker.

Thank goodness for that luck of mine. Not only couldn't I afford it, but it would neither fit in the car to bring it home, or fit in the workshop. But if I could have found somewhere to put it, boy, I would have. It was just... cute. And yes, I'm sorry, I've come over a bit girlie about this. I wouldn't have painted it pink, if that helps at all.

Dragging myself away from that, I looked further and in quick succession fell over a tasty little metalworking lathe, two user-made infills of utter hideousness but strangely appealing, and a Footprint hand drill in beautiful nick but no chuck key (I believe Footprint were unique in offering keyed chucks on their hand drills. Can be very handy, as you'll appreciate if you've ever had one of those "Pull the drill away, leave the bit behind" moments). All remained where they were, and I reckoned I was getting away pretty lightly - until I had the Stanley Odd Jobs put in my hand.

On the plus side I don't have a jones for the Stanley #1 Odd Jobs. But I mean honestly, were the tool gods extracting the Michael here, or what? Was I doomed to fall over rarely seen tools in all directions, but only as long as I was strapped for actual cash? Possibly. Anyway, should you be unfamiliar with it, the Odd Jobs was supposed to be the device to fulfil all a carpenter's needs. With a hammer, a saw and an Odd Jobs you could build a house, or something like that. See? It did everything. There's a reproduction in production, if you're grabbed. I notice that PDF of the instructions show it with a four fold rule instead of the type Axminster supply; makes it rather more useful and ups the gizmocity levels a bit. This one was missing its rule, but I was able to supply a few pointers on finding the very information I've linked to above.

Anyway, at this point I'd had about as much as I could take, gave a low scream and beat a retreat, dragging the basket case saws behind me. Tomorrow I'll tell you what I did on Sunday.

Go on, guess.