ide us worthless, as I
do this, selecting, for a second trial, a piece of what I call
crabbed wood, known by a peculiar curl, and its very handsome and
uncommon appearance.

But before I test this, I must tell you that none but a workman of
great skill would undertake to put it to use, as it is so "crabbed,"
so twisted in its fibre, that on the least carelessness of the
artist, out flies a chip from where it should not, and a very
delicate operation is resorted to in consequence to amend the
blunder--insertion of a slip which must match the grain of the
original every way, not only in flame, but even just as the flash of
that fire falls in its movement when it becomes part of a violin.

I have said earlier "I do not select handsome wood for its beauty,"
etc., and the loveliness of this piece must not tempt me to
sacrifice what I hold of more consequence--tone. But I should do so
did I now choose it; for it is weak where it should be strong, and
poor, flabby and wretched from the view of acoustics.

So you see how difficult it is even for the eye of experience and
the mind of knowledge to wade through the vile to the pure
uncontaminated: how much more so him, the sanguine amateur, at once
the plaything and the dupe of those who do not scruple to beguile
him by the one to the safe usage of the other!

Still, do not let it be supposed that this slight tinge of the minor
key is intended to make you despond; on the contrary, I want to show
you better things, and mean to do so. And should the doing of it
seem to prolong this part of my address beyond moderate limits, my
excuse must be its deep importance.

I have laid aside three pieces of sycamore, all, as I believe, very
good for the back I purpose making. One is what is called "on the
quarter," the other two "on the slab" (these terms I shall explain
later, when I have fully spoken of the selection of wood). The two
on the slab are in one piece, of course; the one on the quarter in
two pieces, one of which, while I have been speaking, I have glued
slightly, but firmly, to an upright support of glass, made very
rough at the place where I fix the plate, so that the glue may the
better hold, temporarily.

The glass, being a non-conductor (or, if it respond in any way,
however infinitesimally, it does not perceptibly affect my plate,
and in no way my argument), leaves me the absolute control of this
wood, and I proceed to lay an English lever watch on several places
o