Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XXIII.—April, 1852.—Vol. IV.: NoneVarious
General
Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XXIII.—April, 1852.—Vol. IV.: None
Various
American literature -- Periodicals; Civilization -- Periodicals; Culture -- Periodicals
This call led us out of a great thoroughfare, through two or three
narrow and dark streets, to the door of a dingy house. As we paused on
the threshold, my companion asked me if I had ever seen a tobacco-pipe
manufactory. I expressed my inexperience; and, having been cautioned
against sermons on what I was about to see, followed my eccentric friend
down a dark passage, which terminated in a very dirty and a very dark
warehouse. A few samples of tobacco-pipes lay upon a counter, and one
side of the warehouse was skirted with drawers full of "yards of
clay"--my eccentric friend's ordinary expression when alluding to his
pipes. In a dark corner, a strong man was savagely punching huge blocks
of clay with a heavy wooden bar; in another corner lay a huge pile of
clay-blocks in the rough state--apparently a heap of dirt, of little use
to any body. A mild woman--the wife of the manufacturer--showed us about
with a cheerful manner. My friend, who took an evident interest in all
the processes we witnessed, still contrived to maintain his eccentric
habit, by continually expressing his unconcern. As we looked at the
skillful action of the workmen's fingers, my friend allowed that they
played the fiddle well, but added that they could _only_ play the
fiddle. However, I left him to pursue his eccentric way, and wandered
about with unfeigned curiosity.
Turning from the muscular fellow who was beating the rough clay with the
wooden bar, and moistening it, that it might yield to the pressure of
the mould, I suddenly saw a black gaping mouth before me, that seemed to
be in the agony of swallowing a dense stack of tobacco-pipes; this, I
learned, was the pipe-kiln. The pipes were arranged in exact rows, and
in vast quantities. I ventured to express my astonishment at the number
of pipes in the capacious kiln; whereupon the clay-beater paused from
his labor, and, with a smile that expressed pity for my ignorance,
declared that there was a mere handful on the premises.
"There are a few still, up there," he added, pointing to the roof of the
warehouse.
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