Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-01-06
WITH GLHSSBLOWERS
PICTURESQUE 11aHr EFFECTS IN
THE FURNACE ROOM.
Facts in Connection With the Industry
-Craftsmen's Pride-One Of
the Old Guilds.

From the New York Evening Pest
Glassblowing, more than almost any other
modern trade. brings to mind the esprit du
corps and craftsman's pride which banded
together the old-time guilds. From boy
hood to old age a glassblower may advance
steadily to finer work and better wages, and
in any factory where the output is of the
finer grades Of glass the master workmen
are usually gray-hatred men. Sturdy men
they are, too, broad Of chest and strong Of
lung. in spite of the popular superstition
that the life Of a glassblower lasts only
seven years: It comes nearer to being
seven times seven, and In many cases a
man spends his entire term of service In one
factory.
Romance in Factory.
Glass factory sounds prosaic enough. and,
from the outside, it looks prosaic. Once
penetrate though, to the regions behind the
heavy brick walls and one finds ones self
in picturesque inferno worthy Of the pen
of Dante or the brush Of Rembrandt. In a
great, dim dungeon, whose boundaries are
lost In darkness, massive towers of brick
AMI fire clay, pierced with points of white
hot light. rise from the stone floor and van
ish among the shadows of the roof. Here
and there among them are structures like
gigantic beehives, bathed in shafts of or
ange radiance. In and out, back and forth,
through velvet-black gloom and intolerable
glare, fit demons great and small, carrying
long black rods and forks and shovels, some
tipped with balls of living flame, some hold
Ing strange and brilliant vessels which CLINT
like jewels in the furnace flare.
That furnace flare! Writers in the Scrip
lures knew the glory of white heat and ex-
hausted the gorgeous possibilities of the
Hebrew tongue in it's description. And sure
ly there Is no white glow so pure that OF
rIo- ,,~I, H. 80
the furnace glimmers a lake of liquid fire.
White fire, in the sense that white Is the
sum of all the colors known to man. for
over, and under, and through it, like the
evanescent rainbow CLEAN. 1t is the ghost
of iridescence, the spirit Of color purified in
the fervent heat. -,
Blowing the Glass.
Suddenly long black rod is thrust into
the flaming pool. The stalwart young fell
low who carries 1t holds and twirls it for
moment, and then withdraws it. At the
end is a small glowing sphere that might
be bit of the elemental world stuff. White
at first, it changes swifly to gold. and then
to orange as 1T is rolled 10 a cone on q
smooth slab of hot iron and handed to
gray-haired man, who sits on a low wooden
chair with long, straight iron arms. A
preliminary puff at one end OF the rod
shows it to be an iron, bloWpipe instead of
Then sturdy urchin squats on his heels
beside the chair, and his red cheeks puff ont
like those Of a trumpet-blowing cherub as
he breathes into the following sphere. An
other moment, while the blowpipe Is rolled
rapidly up and down rthe3iron track made
by the arms Of the chair, and then the lips
Of the master workman are at the end or
the pipe, and thegsphere grows into lorg
oval. 1t Is green as an emerald now, WIN
melting hues Of gold. rose and violet
breathing over its surface. 1t is cooling
rapidly. but plunge into the flame of the
lesser furnace silvers it once more with
pressed firmly against wooden block.
which rounds it again into globe that
grows steadily larger as 1t fills with air
from the mighty lungs Of the blower. A
helper stands ready with lump of red-hot
glass on the end of a slender rod Of iron.
This is pressed against the globe just OPP
posite the blowpipe where it adheres. A
touch of cold iron, and the blowpipe is sew
cred from the globe as clearly as though
sheared off with a razor
Baths Of Fire.
Then another bath in the fire. and the
globe is ready for the finishing touches. The
master workman once more takes his seat.
and the rod is rolled swiftly UP and down
the long iron chair arms, while the workers
hollow out the opening with shears and
smooth the globe into perfect shape with a
wooden paddle. Sparks trail thtckly over
the surface, which is beginning to take red
glow under the siIver-green. Once more,
and for the last time. it is thrust into the
furnace and rapidly twirled. Now the color
changes. From green it melts into silver,
then gold, then orange. Gradually the red
tinge deepens and spreads. until the beaut-
full thing burns like great ruby against
the background of flame. Out again, and q
slender. impish-looking fork hooks into the
opening. The rod is taken off with an
other touch of cold iron, and an active small
hn fn no lin
with sumptuous ruby globe for a banquet
lamp. Time, not more than two minutes
from the taking out of the original lump of
glass from the furnace.