The Anaconda standard. [volume] (Anaconda, Mont.) 1889-1970, 1899-02-26
THE GOLD-BEATER'S ART
A Fascination About It Even in
a Dingy Basement.
SWING OF HEAVY HAMMERS
Reduce Bars OF Metal to Filmy, Trans
parent Sheets-Baaters Who Lose
Their Skill-Delicate Work
by Girls.
To the greenhorn there was g:amor

To the greenhorn there was a g:amor
about the very words gold beaten 1t
sounded like the age of chivalry and al
chemy. He would not have been surprise
to read that the Gold Beaters' guild had
met to Cuaff wassail out of a golden
bowl wrought in cunning designs by mas
ter hands. But instead of that he read
that some of them were trying to get up Il
union to maintain the standard of wages.
Even this reused the greenhorn to in
terest, however, and for several days the
cable cars ratified in time to the ringing
in his head: God beaters! gold beaters.
gold beaters.' Finally one sloppy. soggy
haif-hearted sort of day. he was passing
along lower Fourth avenue, when he be-
came conscious of a dull CLEAN of yellow
light t one side. AT first he thought that
somebody had hched the sun and locked
it up in the back room of a shop, and he
was exceedingly glad to have discovered
the robbery. Then he saw that it was
only the glimmer from a great crump.ed
sheet of gold leaf. or something that look
ed like it, hanging in a window full of
bottles of gliding and silvering and other
aids to gorgeousness. he went right in.
DO YOU know where there are any
gold beaters?'' he inquired bravey.
He did it bravely, because he felt as if
he were asking the little shopkeeper for
the address of the syndicate for bottling
and shipping the water from the fountain
of youth. or for the number of the Phil
osopher's Stone company Uimited}. Sure
enough. the little shopkeeper stared.
'Why-wel-oh, yes, l know where
there are gold beaters." he said dubious
ly. There's one right around in Third
avenue near Fourteenth street. But l
don't believe he'll let you see his men at
work.
But the greenhorn was off. The glamour
was thicker than ever. 1t must be a gor-
geous sight to behold men hammering
away at the shining metal. Probably the
air around them would be like a golden
mist full of flakes of gold, flying like
sparks of redhot steel from the anvil. The
greenhorn grew poetic and fancied that 1t
would be good deal like looking at the
sunset in summer when the air is thick
with golden notes dancing in the suns
rays Then he slipped in the unpoetic
black mud under the elevated road and
almost fell into the cable roads trench,
after which he picked his way down
flight of steep, dirty steps. pushed open
grimy door and entered the haunt of the
gold beaters.
The greenhorn wanted to learn all about
the latest and most improved methods OF
gold beating. Strange as it may seem,
there are no such things as new methods
Keeicy's shop. II is done now as it was
done years. pehaps centuries, ago. AS for
all the CLEAN and glory with which the
greenhorn's imagination had invested the
process-wcll, this is the true story of how
it is done. =
Almost anybody can guess what
Third avenue basement would be like. 1t
is low. dark, dirty. On raised platform
by the front window of this particular
/ or oh ~
ming the gold leaves and putting them
into books ready for sale. Back in the
darkness of the long room there was
glow of live Goals and at the end there
was a door opening into a lighter room
where. outlined against the windows, were
the figures of stalwart men swinging
rhythmically and INCREASINGLY ponderous
hammers which rose and fell with the reg
ularity of pendulums.
These pendulums licked, too Nightly,
to be sure, but dulled and modified so
that there was no reverberation. Poe
would have shut his eyes and said that
horrible giant hearts were beating as the
teltale heart of the murdered man did.
But the greenhorn was not Poe. and all he
thought of was whether Mr.. Kelley
would let him go out there and see the
hammers come down upon the gold. Alas!
he was indeed a greenhorn. Not that Mr..
ing as if his name had been Barkis. He
bgan at The very beginning and told all
about it.
Il buy the metal in bars" he said. "Of
the government? No. You see, the gov
ornment doesn't sell less than 5000 worth
at time, so I buy of a dealer. Then
take the metal and put it one Of these
crucibles and melt it in my little furnace
yonder. When it is melted ! pour it into
mo Of fbeSe r,o1ls making If n n Is
of the size l desire. l take one of these
ingots out to this mill or roller
He led the way at last to the room of
the swinging hammers. and the green
horn stood in the presence of dozen gold
heaters The ceiling was low, and if the
mighty blows of those hammers had not
been so strangely muff1ed the noise would
| have been deafening. AS it was. the
| chorus of thuds was emphatic but. never
theless. the greenhorn could hear what
| was said to him. He gave an eager, in
| vestigating look in search of the CLEAN of
metal and the hale of golden mist which
| he had pictured, but he saw nothing OF
! the sort.
| The ingot is run through these rollers"
/ continued Mr.. Kelley. the practical, "un-
til it is like this. He produced a long
metallic ribbon about an inch in width
and of the thickness of heavy writing pa
! per. Then he explained the beating pro-
cess. which is as follows:
The strip of metal is cut into pieces
about on inch square. Each piece is
beaten out until it is about four inches
square. Each of these four-inch pieces
is cut into four equal sections, which are.
therefore, about two inches square. Each
two Zach piece is beaten out until it is
about five inches square. Each nve-nch
leaf is then cut into four squal sections.
about two and half inches square, and
each of these pieces is beaten out until
it is about six inches square. The gold
gets three heatings.
The greenttorn turned eagerly to the
nearest hammer swinger to see just what
| particular size of leaf he was engaged
upon. The man was welding his hammer
| industriously; great iron hammer with a
head about or 10 inches long and about
| four inches in diameter. Fancy whether
! il weighed anything or not. 1t was of
| the sledge hammer variety, with the
short, strong handle entering the middle
| of the iron head.
The man was working SO hard that the
| 10 ho+ +bo