American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Sunday schools -- United States -- Periodicals
"It was speedily made pointed, and a workman passed it through a small
hole, where a pair of pincers took right hold and pulled it along; then
it was put around a sort of wheel, which went round and round, drawing
the rod through the hole, and making it smaller and smaller all the
while, and winding it around itself. Then the point was put through a
smaller hole, and drawn through again, until it went through actually
twenty-five holes! I counted.
"Every little while the rod which had become wire then, was melted
red-hot, and then doused in cold water. I do not know what this was for.
"Soon the wire was quite small, of a bright yellow color, and was
coiled on wheels, and put in large dark boxes, to take a journey. The
journey seemed long to me, though I do not suppose it was. When we
reached our destination, several coils of wire were sent up in wagons,
to a large building in the city, where we were unloaded, and carried
in. My coil was taken off the wheel and wound round a little reel that
stood at the end of a queer-looking machine.
"My part of the wire was at the very end, and I felt myself suddenly
seized by a little steel thumb and finger, and drawn forward a little,
where an immense pair of shears suddenly cut me off to about the
length that you see me now. Going on a little further in my journey
through the machine, I was suddenly between a pair of rollers that
mashed me all down except where my head is, so that while I had had
no head before, I was possessed of one now. Going on still further,
I confronted a sort of a grindstone, which rubbed my point down so
speedily that while I was wondering what it was going to do, I found
I had a point. Then my journey suddenly ended, and I dropped into a
trough where there were many pins like myself; and now that I may give
you an idea of the amazing velocity with which I journeyed, I will tell
you what cannot but be true, I was not longer than ten seconds in going
from the coil of wire to the trough.
"You may think, my dear friend, that this must have been very
uncomfortable, and have hurt me a great deal, but Providence is good,
and has provided for me so greatly, that I, because I have to go
through adventures that would cost you mortals so much sufferings,
actually have no feelings at all! Therefore it was, that while it
was disagreeable, this being pounded and jammed so much, I cannot
truthfully say that it hurt me in the least. You must excuse that bit
of moralizing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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