PLANT AND MATERIALS.

We shall assume at once, and at the very outset, that our reader has the fixed purpose of producing an organ which shall be creditable to its builder, a source of pleasure to its players and their hearers, and an ornament to the room or building in which it is erected: in short, that he remembers the excellent maxim, "whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing well," and will not be content with rough workmanship, inferior materials, and inharmonious results.

Assuming this as the basis and principle of all our suggestions, we shall nevertheless bear in mind the necessity of adapting our rules to the conditions imposed by slender purses, and the imperfect appliances of humble workshops. Without attempting to quote the actual market prices of the wood, leather, and metal required, or of those important parts of the instrument which in most cases will be purchased ready-made, we shall endeavour to show how economy may be consulted by obtaining all these gradually, as our work advances with that inevitably slow progress which attends all proceedings in which most haste is found to be worse speed.

We shall buy nothing which we can make for ourselves. The common sense of our readers may be trusted not to press the application of this rule to a reductio ad absurdum. As we shall certainly buy, and not make, our screws and nails, so in the course of the following pages we may possibly recommend the buying of certain parts of the work, in full remembrance of our rule. But even in these occasional instances we shall probably point out how expenditure may be saved by patient industry. We need not anticipate. Our readers will see for themselves what we mean as we go on.

Our task will be somewhat simplified if we suppose that an organ is desired for a room of moderate size. Such an instrument will commonly have one manual, or row of keys, with four or five stops, or sets of pipes. Pedals, with or without pipes of their own of deep bass quality, must be considered essential in every organ making any pretension to completeness, or intended to afford useful practice for learners. Taking this as a rough outline or sketch of probable plans, it will be easy to see hereafter how they may be indefinitely extended.

Our organ factory, then (with some such plan in our head), must be a roomy, well-lighted, perfectly dry workshop, furnished with a fire-place or stove for the glue-pot, with drawers or cupboards for storing away skins of leather and other materials not in constant requirement, and with shelves on which pipes may be stowed without danger of rolling off. It must not be a mere shed or hovel in which we might mend the cart or the wheel-barrow, and it should not be far from our dwelling-house, if we are likely to work at our serious undertaking in the winter evenings.

The shop must be fitted with a full-sized bench in good condition, that is to say, with its top dressed truly, and not hacked by rough usage; and good workmanship will be much promoted if the usual appliances of such a bench are of the best kind and in complete order. True planing, so vitally essential in organ-building, cannot be done upon a crazy or worn-out bench. The bench should stand near a window, and it should be so placed that boards much longer than itself may be occasionally dressed upon it by temporary arrangements.

The tools required are chiefly those which are common to every joiner's shop; notably and of first importance the three planes, the jack, the jointer or trying plane, and the little smoothing plane. This last may now be bought in a very handy form, entirely of iron, and fitted with a clever adjustment by which the cutter can be set to any degree of fineness. This little plane (an American invention) is invaluable for many purposes involving extreme neatness and accuracy. The planes must at all times be kept in first-rate order, and any defect which makes its appearance must be instantly rectified by a careful use of the oil stone. The latter, let us mention by the way, as we may have youthful and inexperienced readers, should be levelled occasionally by being rubbed on a flat slab with sand and water. The plane is emphatically the tool of the organ-builder, and no pains should be considered too great to be bestowed on the care of these beautiful tools, or on the attainment of dexterity in the use of them.

The usual saws, the ripping saw, the panel saw, the dovetail, the key-hole or pad saw, will be required; and we may take this opportunity of remarking that as the organ-builder must have a strong dash of the smith as well as of the joiner in his composition, his shop must have a stout vice fixed in a convenient part of it, and a few good files always available for brass or for iron. (The reader is doubtless aware that the same file must not be used for both these metals.) Drills for metal, some of them of small clockmaker's sizes with a bow and breast-plate for working them, will belong to this department, which will also include a screw-plate for tapping wires of various sizes from one-eighth of an inch downwards, and cutting pliers or nippers for dividing the wire.

The tool-chest must contain a thoroughly good brace and bits; and among the last should be some one of the various forms of adjustable centre-bits for cutting large circular holes of graduated dimensions up to 3 inches diameter.

In connection with this it may here be mentioned that most of the holes bored with the brace and bits (though not the huge holes just referred to), will be scorched or charred with a red-hot iron, in order to clear them of splinters, and allow a perfectly free passage for the air which will pass through them. A few pieces of iron rod, of sizes suitable for this purpose, will therefore be required. Many of these holes will be also countersunk, that is, rendered conical at their extremity, in order to receive the conical feet of the pipes which receive from these conduits their supply of wind. This countersunk portion is also scorched or charred, and two or three conical irons will be wanted for this purpose. But we have not yet come to this. When we are ready for these irons, we can have them made by any blacksmith, or we may have put aside some stout morsels of old iron from which we ourselves may contrive to fashion them.

An important question must next be asked.

Is a turning-lathe absolutely necessary as part of the plant of our factory? We must answer this. We should be sorry to deny that a small organ certainly can be and may be built without the aid of a lathe. We know that it has been done. But it is equally undeniable that the absence of a lathe, or of access to a lathe, will necessitate the purchase of certain parts (wooden pipe-feet for instance, and rack-pins), at an outlay which will bear an appreciable proportion to the first cost of a simple and inexpensive machine. Pressed, then, to say if our workshop must include a lathe, we are bound to reply in the affirmative, explaining, in the same breath, that all the purposes of the young organ-builder will be answered by a lathe of humble character and trifling cost. We ourselves, during several years of early beginnings, used a small clockmaker's lathe by Fenn, of Newgate Street, just capable of admitting between its centres the little billet of wood ready for shaping as a pipe-foot, that is to say, about 7 inches in length, and from 2 inches down to half an inch in diameter. We still possess this little lathe, and still sometimes use it for small work. Some such simple lathe, or some lathe still simpler, being voted as necessary, the usual turning-chisels and gouges will of course accompany it, and we shall assume that our readers possess a sufficient acquaintance with the wood-turner's art to require no hints from us on the subject other than those which we shall give in regular course as we proceed. If they are fortunate enough to possess a superior lathe, with slide-rest and slow motion for turning iron and brass, they will find the machine most conducive to good and durable workmanship, and we shall not hesitate to point out, as we go on, how materially it will assist us in giving strength, firmness, and finish, to various parts of our work.

We have furnished, then, our workshop, or rather, let us say, we see it in our "mind's eye" furnished as we should wish it to be. And now we may lay in our stock of wood.

Several boards of half-inch pine, perfectly dry and sound, without knots; these are of first necessity. Such boards are generally about 12 feet in length and from 12 to 15 or even 20 or more inches in breadth. If a little stock can be laid in of such boards when an opportunity occurs of obtaining exceptionally clean stuff, it will be well to have them by us. A board or two of three-quarters stuff, and a board of inch stuff, all sound and clean pine, must be provided.

And here we may pause for a moment.

We intend to begin our organ by making a set of wooden pipes. Hence we need not provide ourselves with more timber for the present than we shall need for this first operation. But as in our imaginary furnishing of the workshop, we included several or many things which belong rather to future than to immediate use, so we may here place the reader in a position to form some idea of the further expense to which he will be put for the purchase of timber for his proposed small organ of four or five stops. The pine boards just enumerated will give us our first set of pipes; but when these are ready, we shall require some rather costly wood for the sound-board. This should be Honduras mahogany, often called "Bay wood," and of three thicknesses, say, three-quarters stuff for the table of the sound-board;[1] a full inch, or, still better, five-quarters, for the upper boards; and some very thin stuff, three-eighths or less, known as "coach-panel," for the sliders. The quantities, or number of square feet, of these mahogany boards will be determined by considerations discussed in a subsequent chapter. The wood must be carefully selected, for the grain of it is often tortuous and unkindly for the plane; it must be, like the pine, free from large knots, flaws, and cracks; and the completeness of its seasoning should be quite unquestionable and beyond the reach of suspicion.

It is not unreasonable to assume that the reader, who has contemplated for some time the building of an organ, has already by him some materials which he knows will be necessary; for instance, some boards of sound white deal for the framework, and perhaps for the bellows; and some scantlings of red deal, or pitch pine, or oak, or mahogany, or red cedar, for the blocks and stoppers of pipes. He will not need the aid of this book to be aware that old materials may sometimes be turned to excellent account in such a business as that upon which he is embarking. We have known the purchase (for a pound or two) of an old square pianoforte turn out a profitable investment. Its mahogany top was solid, not veneered; and the thin boards found in its interior dry as touch-wood, and perhaps one hundred years old, were made into pipes of charming sweetness.

The old organs before the days of mahogany were made chiefly of oak, often called "wainscot." We ourselves have made much use of this durable and trustworthy material, which may be obtained in the convenient form known as "coopers' staves," being planks about 6 feet in length, as many inches in width, and 2 or 3 inches thick. They may be divided, at any saw-pit or saw-mill, into boards of the desired thinness, and they work pleasantly under thoroughly sharp tools.

And now we may set to work upon our set of wood pipes.