"I'll carry just this one big one," he said to himself: "I'm stronger than mother thinks I am." But the pot full of earth, was heavier than Charley had thought it, and before he reached the place to set it down it had grown very heavy indeed; and, glad to get it out of his aching arms as quickly as possible, he placed it on the curb so suddenly, that with a loud crash it parted in the middle and lay in pieces at his feet. Glancing quickly at his mother and seeing in her face impending reproach, he forestalled it by exclaiming: "Well, that pot broke itself very easily. What's it made of, any how?" The mother couldn't help but smile at this attempted shifting of the blame to the pot, but she answered, in a moment, gravely: "The pot, Charley, was made of clay; the same weak material from which little boys are made; who, when they forget to obey their mothers, are as likely to meet disaster as the earthen pot." Charley didn't care just then to discuss disobedient boys, so he turned at once to the subject of the pot. "Made of clay," he exclaimed, "well, I'd like to see a man make a thing like that of clay." "And so would I," said sister Mary, who, from an upper window, had listened to the conversation. "And so you shall, if I have no further reminders of this sort, that my children are made of the same unreliable material." That afternoon, the three, started for the pottery works. Mr. Sands, the proprietor, kindly received them, and fully explained all his processes. First he pointed out what seemed to Charley a heap of dry hard common dirt; taking a little piece of this he dipped it into a basin of water and then squeezing and pressing it in his hand it soon became soft, and plastic, so that it could be wrought to any shape. He then led the party to another room where a young man was engaged in thus softening large masses. He would first crumble the hard earth into fine pieces; then wet and pack it together into a "loaf," so Charley called it, and then raising it over his head throw it again with all his might upon the table before him until it became soft and smooth through all its bulk. This, Mr. Sands said, was called "wedging the clay," and that it was now ready for "throwing" into shape. "Will it come into shape if you just throw it?" said Charley. Mr. Sands laughed heartily at this, and answered, "come and see;" and taking up one of the softened "loaves," to use Charley's word for them, he led the way to the next room. The young man who had been "wedging" now followed and placed himself at a large wheel which was connected by a strap or belt with a table at which Mr. Sands seated himself. [Illustration: HOW POTS AND PANS ARE MADE.]