o54 SKETCHES IN PROSE. 



blades, knives of four blades, tbree-bladed knives, two-bladed 

 knives and so on by easy stages to that single-bladed affair, 

 the " Barlow " — why so called it is not known, probably 

 because Billy of that surname was the inventor. I don't see 

 them any more. They used to sell for ten and twelve cents, 

 and had blades of such villainous temper that a turnip would 

 almost turn their edges. They were, however, considered 

 good enough for little boys to lose, and were often bought for 

 them by thrifty parents in preference to lending them their 

 own .more valuable whittlers. I've not forgotten with what 

 consummate innocence a knife with a recently broken blade 

 was placed in the parental trousers by the youthful delinquent, 

 the ruptured ends carefully placed together, and the damage 

 not discovered until the knife would be next used. The 

 Barlow handle had a peculiar smell caused by the varnish or 

 stain with which the bone was covered, which I well remem- 

 ber. In order to test the temper of the blades we used to 

 blow our breaths on them, and note the length of time it took 

 for them to evaporate. I recollect that once, w^hile in the 

 Barlow stage of existence, and having just lost one of those 

 " toad stickers," as we called them at school, I w^as flattening 

 my nose on the show case of our store, looking wistfully at 

 some nice two-bladed knives, when the storekeeper asked me 

 if I didn't want to buy one. I told him yes, but "pappy" 

 wouldn't let me. " Ah," said he, shrewdly, " take it home and 

 show it to him and I guess he will." On getting there I 

 found the suggestion had been a good one, for my father could 

 not resist my importunities, and, besides, possession was 

 always nine points of the law. I recollect getting our man of 

 all work, Aaron White, to grind it for me, and my mother 

 calling excitedly to him not to make it too sharp. I also 

 remember his replying that he understood his business, and 

 have not forgotten that he made the knife so dull that the 

 softest pine was as seasoned oak. 



