PHYSICS AND PHILOSOPHY 315 



which I was seeking to finish it chattered so that 

 the surface of the cylinder was as smooth as a 

 nutmeg grater. I reformed and retempered the 

 tool, changing its cutting angle several times and 

 always finishing it with an oilstone to a perfect 

 edge, but it continued to chatter. As I held it 

 in my hand wondering what to do next the fore- 

 man took it from me and drawing an oilstone 

 across the edge that I had produced with such 

 care rounded it off until it was as dull as my wits 

 appeared to me a minute later. 



"Now you've fixed it so it wouldn't cut 

 cheese," said I. "Try it," said he, and when 

 I had fixed it in the tool post and thrown on the 

 belt it slowly traveled the length of that cylin- 

 der without a chatter, leaving a perfectly mirror- 

 like surface behind it. 



Of course these details sound trivial, like the 

 jackstraws of children, but they were part of 

 my life and as interesting as Wall Street had 

 been. Friends wondered how I managed to kill 

 time in so slow a place, while I mourned each de- 

 parting day, lamenting that it didn't contain 



