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"She'll kick," Blair said, sighing; "she'll row like a puddler!" In his own mind, he added that, after all, no amount of kicking would alter the fact. And again the little exultant smile came about his lips. "As for being 'nice, Nannie might as well talk about being 'nice' to a circular saw," he said, gaily.
They look as though they had been born under a bureau or in a New York hotel room, where you have to close the folding bed to find your clothes, or in the Boston baseball grounds. The dog man said he used to know a George Black years ago in Johnstown, Pa., who was a puddler in the mills there. Johnny answered, "That's my father.
I was informed that my business was to "save souls," and in my public addresses to tell how I saved them; that political conditions must be left to the politicians and it was done. To the old church at the corner of Market and Henry streets came Dowling. He followed me as a matter of fellowship we loved each other. And came also Dave Ranney, the "puddler from Pittsburg."
Wolfe laughed, too, in a senseless way. "I think I'll get out," he said. "I believe his brain's touched," said Haley, when he came out. The puddler scraped away with the tin for half an hour. Still Deborah did not speak. At last she ventured nearer, and touched his arm. "Blood?" she said, looking at some spots on his coat with a shudder.
Working door is a trade name. 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.
I've had this kind of fare for the last few years, and getting back to your table is the best part of home-coming." Father was still a puddler, and to show my appreciation of all he had done for me, I went into the mill every afternoon that summer and worked a heat or two for him while he went home and rested in the shade. The workout did me good.
I thought I was a muscle-bound iron puddler, but they pronounced me an intellectual giant. It never occurred to me that they might have guessed wrong, while the wise old world had guessed right. If the world was in step, they were out of step, but I figured that the world was out of step and they had the right stride.
For the cooling down of that molten batter didn't go so far but that it still would make too hot a mouthful for any creature alive. The puddler's hand-rag is one of his most important tools. It is about the size of a thick wash-rag, and the puddler carries it in the hand that clasps the rabble rod where it is too hot for bare flesh to endure.
The rolling mill where father worked was Life's Big Circus tent to me, and like a kid escaped from school, eager to get past the tent flap and mingle with the clowns and elephants, I chucked my job sorting nails when I found an opening for a youngster in the rolling mill. Every puddler has a helper. Old men have both a helper and a boy.
After having been well beaten in the tubs, the "dirt" is put into the hopper of the cradle, which is then rocked gently, whilst another party keeps up a constant supply of fresh water. In the right hand of the cradler is held a thick stick, ready to break up any clods which may be in the hopper, but which a good puddler would not have sent there.
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