me to make acquaintance with
the interior of the works. An intelligent foreman acted as cicerone,
and performed the duties with very gratifying cheerfulness.

The Model-room of the establishment is first thrown open to the
visitor. It is an oblong, well-lighted apartment, in a range of
buildings termed the offices. A large flat table, with smooth surface,
occupies the entire centre, around which are scattered a few chairs
for the accommodation of the draughtsmen when at work. Beyond this,
there is no furniture. The objects of interest are the models pegged
to the unadorned walls. These are numerous, and kept with almost
religious care; attached to each there 'hangs a tale,' which your
conductor 'speaks trippingly,' and with no effort at concealment of
satisfaction in the recital. A draughtsman's models are the trophies
of his personal prowess--his letters of introduction--his true
business-card. In the shapely blocks of wood placed for inspection,
you are invited to contemplate the man in connection with his
creations. He points to his model, dilates upon its beauties,
criticises its defects, and leaves you to judge of him from his works.

Crossing from the Model-room, you enter the Moulding-loft--a long,
spacious apartment, not lofty but drearily spacious, and amazingly
airy. Here the draughtsman's lines are extended into working
dimensions, and transferred to wooden moulds, after which they are
put into the hands of the carpenter. Proceeding down stairs, you are
shewn the joiner's shop, filled with benches, work in an unfinished
state, and busy workmen. Underneath this, again, are the saw-pits,
where logs are cut into deals of all dimensions--a laborious and
painful process when performed by manual labour, as must have been
apparent to all who have witnessed it--and who has not? The sawn
timber is stowed in 'racks' in the rear of the building.

Proceeding to the centre of the yard, your attention is directed to an
enormous furnace, near the mouth of which a score of partly undressed
workmen are grouped in attitudes of repose. Around are strewn the
implements of labour--large cast-iron blocks, wooden mallets hooped
with iron, crowbars, and pincers. But, see! the cavern yawns, and from
its glowing recesses the white plates are dragged with huge tongs.
Laid on the block, each plate is beaten with the mallets into the
requisite shape, and thrown aside to cool. In the meantime, the
furnace has been recharged, to vomit f