River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1902-12-04
I'm the
Molding Room
CHARLES NEWTON HOOD


noon, and the largest heat" of the
day was being taken off. The pic
ture was a weird one. The day out
side was dark and gloomy, and within
the big building there seemed to be
a premature twilight.
Clouds of steam rose from the
damp sand, and here and there a
brilliant glow showed where the
melted iron was squirting from the
cupola or being poured from the
ladle into the molds in the sand.
Groups of half-naked men hurried
about, working with tremendous en-
ergy.
The new chairman of the board of
directors, who had never witnessed
such scene, followed the general
manager into the molding room rath-
er tiTidly.
Its hard work, you see," remarked
the general manager, ''and rather re-
sponsible work, too. Besides, it's
mighty dangerous sometimes, and
don't know but what the men are
justified in asking for their increase
of pay"
The chairman did not reply at once,
being apparently a trife nervous.
His little SON, who was with him,
chung tightly to his hand. The eyes
Of the boy were wide with wonder,
but he seemed more fascinated than
frightened.
The chairman patted the lad on the
head to reassure him.
'They are never satisfied, I sup
pose," he said, drawing himself up
and pulling his coat together in way
that important men have. when we
were losing money until our stock
was down almost to where we would
have had to pay people to take it,
and we ran at u loss simply to keep
our men together, they didn't com
plain; but now that there is a bare
chance of decent dividend, they
want to share it with u.s."
The general manager shook his
head. '"They don't look into the mat
ter strictly on the investment basis,
/ fear" he said.
"The trouble is" asserted the chair
man, eleyating his voice little that
il might reach the ears of the gen
cral manager above the din of the
shop, 1.-The rank and file of them are
little better than horses, and" he
went on, pleased with his comparison,
''sOme horses l know would be
ashamed of a good many of them"
81 was one of them myself for a
good many years." remarked the
general manager, dryly.
''Of course l said the rank and
file, " interposed the chairman, hasti-
ly. There are exceptions in all
classes as well as cases. Now, right
on our board of directors there are
men that a good, steady-gOing don
key would be ashamed Of" and the
chairman laughed in a highly self
satisfied way at the tactful manner
in which he had set himself right.
The general manager smiled grim
ly, but made no response, and pres
cnUiy he suggested passing on to in
spect the new brass foundry.
The little son, however, had become
fascinated by the glowing metal, and
he whispered that he wanted to stay
longer. Il don't like to leave you
alone" answered the chairman;
'you might get in the way"
wants to stay, does hep" said the
general manager. well, he can, if
you are willing. I'll put him in
charge of one of the men, and we
can come through here on the way
back. He will enjoy seeing them
pour the big castings"
He beckoned to one of the men. a
stalwart, curly-haired young fellow.
George" he said, 1.-The little fellow
wants to see the big ones poured.
Take care of him until we come
hack"
"All right, sir" The workman held
out his hand, and the boy promptly
went to him.
My stars!" calculated the chair
man. He's usually afraid Of stran-
gers"
He knows good horse when he
sees one" remarked the general man
ager, as he stalked along ahead.
"Oh, now, l say" protested the
chairman, that was only my little
jolle!"
"And this was only mine" returned
the manager, smiling, as the big iron
doors closed behind them.
George Smith, Big George Smith
they called him, to distinguish him
from Little George Smith" who was
a pattern maker, took the boy by the
hand and led him over to a safe place
by the stone wall of the building.
IF you will stand right there" he
said, you will be safe, and you can
see everything"
The lad chung to the workman's
hand for a moment to reassure him
self.
What is the hot, red stuff" he
asked, wonderingly.
''That isn't hot, red stuff replied
Big George, smiling. That's red-hot
stuff-melted iron. So hot that it
runs like water, and in each of those
boxes and piles of sand there is a
sort of a hole, or a hollow, that's
just the shape of something that we
want to make out of iron. We pour
the hole full of the hot iron, and
when it cools it turns hard again;
then we shovel the sand away, and
there is the casting in there just the
right shape, and all made of iron"
How does the hole get there?'
asked the little boy promptly.
1--WE make a model of wood first