DRAMA OF FURNACE, FORGE AND SHOP 267 



fiery traveler moving majestically along, so slowly that you 

 can easily catch up with it. Above it is a long steel beam 

 stretching from side to side of the building, and you now see 

 that the little wheels supporting each end of this movable 

 bridge rest on an elevated railroad track the width of the 

 foundry. 



Here is what the man who is going ahead of the casting 

 to warn everybody away from it says : "That thing on the top 

 with a lot of wheels and cylinders you see is what does the 

 lifting. It is the crab, and it is the biggest crab you ever saw 

 — runs by electricity. Why, it can handle this 'ere fifty tons 

 like you or me would toss up a pound weight. Notice that 

 fellow in the little cage? He does it — just has two or three 

 levers, that's all." 



The man in the cage! Beside his leather covered bench 

 are the shining handles of the levers. The little house is just 

 large enough for him and them. Open on each side it hangs 

 beneath the crane in such a way that all he has to do is to look 

 at the man with the glasses or any other of the bosses. A 

 wave of the hand or the sound of a whistle and the nearest 

 lever moves a few inches, the wheels of the crab begin whirling, 

 and it " buzzes" as the electric current rushes through it with 

 noise like the trolley of the street car, forcing the weight, 

 whether fifty or a hundred tons or a single ton, up and up. 

 Another wave of the hand, the lever is pushed back, the buzz- 

 ing ceases, and the weight stops moving. 



At another motion the motorman pulls the next lever 

 and the crab begins rolling side ways along the top of the crane 

 with its burden, for the man can work his mechanical muscle 

 in almost as many ways as his human brawn. When at last 

 he reaches the forging press you realize this fact, if you did 

 not before, for he holds the metal under it as easily as a boy 

 holds his jackknife. Here is another play of power, but 

 without the fire scene which so intensified that at the furnace 

 opening. It is less brilliant, less vivid, but the tragic is 

 developed by the somber massiveness of the mechanism. 



The men seem dwarfed to pygmies beside the mechanical 

 giants lifting and pressing and shaping at their will. The 

 chunk of steel is still white, but has dulled in hue. The life 



