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orkers learned to puddle forge iron and make it into wrought iron which is tough and leathery and can not be broken by a blow。 This process was handed down from father to son； and in the course of time came to my father and so to me。 None of us ever went to school and learned the chemistry of it from books。 We learned the trick by doing it； standing with our faces in the scorching heat while our hands puddled the metal in its glaring bath。
And that is the way the farmer's son has learned hog scalding from the time when our ancient fathers got tired of eating bristles and decided to take their pork clean shaven。 To…day there are books telling just how many degrees of heat make the water right for scalding hogs； and the metallurgists have written down the chemical formula for puddling iron。 But the man who learns it from a book can not do it。 The mental knowledge is not enough； it requires great muscular skill like that of the heavyweight wrestler； besides great physical endurance to withstand the terrific heat。 The worker's body is in perfect physical shape and the work does not injure him but only exhilarates him。 No iron worker can be a communist； for communists all have inferior bodies。 The iron worker knows that his body is superior； and no sour philosophy could stay in him； because he would sweat it out of his pores as he sweats out all other poisons。
The old man that I worked with when I first entered the rolling mill was gray with his sixty years of toil。 Yet his eye was clear and his back was straight and when he went to the table he ate like a sixteen…year…old and his sleep was dreamless。 A man so old must conserve his strength； and he made use of his husky helper whenever he could to save his own muscles and lengthen his endurance。 My business was to do the little chores and save time for the helper。 I teased up the furnace； I leveled the fire； I dished the cinders in to thicken the heat； and I watched the cobbles。 During the melting of the pig…iron the furnace had to be kept as hot as coal could make it。
Before the use of coal was discovered； the ancient iron makers used charcoal。 So iron could only be made where there were forests to give fuel。 Even as late as 1840 the iron smelters in Pennsylvania were using wood in their furnaces。 Our forefathers did not know that coal would burn。 And yet here lay the coal； the ore and the limestone side by side； which meant that Pittsburgh was to be the iron capital of the world。 But Americans will not long sleep in the presence of such an opportunity。 Other races will。 The Chinese have slumbered for five thousand years above a treasure trove of oil； coal and iron。 They never discovered its uses。 Instead of oil they lit themselves to bed with mutton tallow。 Instead of burning coal they put on two pairs of pants when winter came。 In place of steel plows drawn by oil…burning tractors they scratched the ground with a wooden stick； and when the crop failed they starved to death by millions。 With our steel ships we send bread to China to save them。 If they had the wit to use their resources they could save themselves。 In man's fight against the hostile forces of nature； his safety lies in applying his wit to the resources that nature gave him。 The Americans can do that。 There are others that can not。
I was riding on a train in Indiana when a gypsy…looking youth came in and sat beside me。 His hair was black； his skin was yellow and he was dressed in flashy American clothes。 He had a cock…sure air about him that attracted my attention。 I have seldom seen a young man more pleased with himself。 He was entirely too cocky for me。 He began talking。 He said he was a Syrian and was worth a thousand dollars。 Soon he would be worth a million； he said。 He was already putting on his million…dollar airs。
〃While selling bananas and ginger pop； he told me； 〃I made some money and learned the American ways。 I have a brother in South Bend who has made some money shining shoes。 I am going to get my brother and we will go back to the old home in Asia Minor。 The hills where we were born are full of coal。 The people call it black stone。 They do not know that it will burn。 We will go back there with our American knowledge and set the world on fire。〃
There is a people who have been kicking coal around for five thousand years and have not yet learned that it will burn。 Those hills produced gypsies who travel around cheating； dickering and selling gewgaws that are worth nothing。 They come among a people who have used their heads。 From these people they learned to heat a banana stand with a little coal stove。 Having mastered that coal…stove principle； they are going back to their native hills with black magic up their sleeves。
〃What a superior man am I；〃 thought that young tribesman swollen with vanity； although he had done nothing。
This taught me that some of these thick…headed tribes can be all swelled up with pride when they have little to be proud of。
CHAPTER XV
THE IRON BISCUITS
In the Sharon town band I played the clarinet from the time I was thirteen until I left that town several years later to chase the fireflies of vanishing jobs that marked the last administration of Cleveland。 A bands…man at thirteen； I became a master puddler at sixteen。 At that time there were but five boys of that age who had become full…fledged puddlers。 Of these young iron workers； I suppose there were few that 〃doubled in brass。〃 But why should not an iron worker be a musician？ The anvil； symbol of his trade； is a musical instrument and is heard in the anvil chorus from Trovatore。 In our rolling mill we did not have an anvil on which the 〃bloom〃 was beaten by a trip…hammer as is done in the Old Country。 The 〃squeezer〃 which combines the functions of hammer and anvil did the work instead。
When I became my father's helper he began teaching me to handle the machinery of the trade。 The puddling furnace has a working door on a level with a man's stomach。 Working door is a trade name。 Out in the world all doors are working； if they don't work they aren't doors （except cellar doors； which are nailed down under the Volstead Act）。 But the working door of a puddling furnace is the door through which the puddler does his work。 It is a porthole opening upon a sea of flame。 The heat of these flames would wither a man's body； and so they are enclosed in a shell of steel。 Through this working door I put in the charge of 〃pigs〃 that were to be boiled。 These short pieces of 〃mill iron〃 had been smelted from iron ore； they had taken the first step on their journey from wild iron to civilized iron。 There isn't much use for pig…iron in this world。 You've got to be better iron than that。 Pig…iron has no fiber； it breaks instead of bending。 Build a bridge of it and a gale will break it and it will fall into the river。 Some races are pig…iron； Hottentots and Bushmen are pig… iron。 They break at a blow。 They have been smelted out of wild animalism； but they went no further； they are of no use in this modern world because they are brittle。 Only the wrought…iron races can do the work。 All this I felt but could not say in the days when I piled the pig…iron in the puddling furnace and turned with boyish eagerness to