We made reproductions of 18th century chairs and cabinets in our shop. We used only hand tools and I found that there was almost a spiritual nature in the work. To shape the wood, you needed sharp tools. A dull chisel or plane iron didn’t slice the wood, it tore it. To make the quality work required we needed a fine edge. Albert sharpened our tools on a treadle wetstone.

Albert had worked in that shop for sixty odd years when I came. Each morning he filled the tub that held the stone with water, and drained it every night. He took my plane iron and pressed it against the rotating wheel. The sound of steel on stone and the steady rhythm of the treadle beat, the splash of water. In moments I had an iron with as perfect an edge as you could ask.

I knew there was wisdom in this man, and I wanted to learn, so I asked.

I notice when you sharpen, that you always rotate the stone away from you and not towards you.

Yep.

Is that to avoid putting a burr on the edge?

Nope. Keeps water from splashin’ on yer pants.