The Story of Porcelain

Sara Ware Bassett

The Story of Porcelain, by Sara Ware Bassett,

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Title: The Story of Porcelain
Author: Sara Ware Bassett

Release Date: October 1, 2006 [eBook #19423]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE STORY OF PORCELAIN
by
SARA WARE BASSETT
Author of "The Story of Lumber" "The Story of Wool" "The Story of Leather" "The Story of Glass" "The Story of Sugar" "The Story of Silk" etc.
Illustrated by Isabel W. Caley

[Illustration: "IT WAS NO ORDINARY DOG"] [Illustration]

The Penn Publishing Company Philadelphia 1919 Copyright 1919 by The Penn Publishing Company

[Illustration]
The Story of Porcelain
To
Margaret Huxley
this book is affectionately inscribed

THE BOWL
Some master-craftsman, maker of porcelains, to the Emperor, the Son of Heaven, Having attained the paradise of artists, who mould in life and fire, Fashioned this day:
A bowl blue as the iris within the sacred gardens, Based with a low design of brown bare hills, A pine or two new-tipped with tender needles, With oak buds, pink and saffron, And birds red, brown, and blue.
Into this bowl, exquisite and perishable, The Patron of all artists heaps light and more light; Then holding high the brimming chalice, quaffs, And folds it in his altar-cloth of stars.
Carl H. Grabo. (From the Nation.)

Contents
I. Into the Woods
II. Mr. Croyden Keeps His Promise
III. Theo Meets with a Calamity
IV. Mr. Croyden's Story
V. The Potter Who Burned His Chairs
VI. From Vases to Drain-Pipes
VII. Porcelain at Last
VIII. The Third Famous Potter
IX. The Romance of French China-Making
X. How the Italians Made China
XI. Our English Cousins
XII. Theo Makes a Present
XIII. The Trenton Visit
XIV. The Beginning of the Porcelain Pilgrimage
XV. How Porcelain is Made
XVI. Dishes, Dishes Everywhere
XVII. The Decoration of China
XVIII. Theo's Great Choice

Illustrations
"It Was No Ordinary Dog" Frontispiece
"I Had Forgotten All About Bed"
"He Used Every Splinter of Wood"
"His Servants Dug Some of the Clay"
"This is a Present"
"It is a Costly Process, and Rather Slow"

[Illustration]
THE STORY OF PORCELAIN
CHAPTER I
INTO THE WOODS
Theo Swift dropped into a chair before the blazing fire in the log cabin, and drew a long breath of delight. At last his dream had come true; he was in the heart of the Maine woods! It was a wonderful experience for a boy of his age to be his father's companion on a fishing trip. Each spring when Dr. Swift had packed his tackle for his annual vacation into the wilderness, and Theo had looked on with hungry eyes as the rods, flies, and tramping boots had been stowed away in the canvas grips, his father had said:
"Wait until you are a bit older, son, and you shall go with me."
And now that day had come, and here he was! It seemed too good to be true.
He glanced up to find his father smiling down at him.
"Well?" questioned the older man. "What do you think of the camp? Does it come up to your expectations?"
"I should say it did!" Theo managed to gasp. "It is great, Father!"
"Think you can be contented here for a month?"
"Contented!" laughed Theo.
"You won't be getting lonesome and wishing you were back in New York?"
"Not much."
"Well, I hope you'll have a good time. Certainly with plenty of fishing and tramping you should. You will find Manuel, our Indian guide, a never-ending source of entertainment; he can do everything from dressing a moose to building a canoe. There isn't a trail through these woods that he couldn't travel blindfolded. You will be perfectly safe with him; only you must do exactly as he says, no matter how silly his orders may seem. He knows the woods better than you do--or than I do, for that matter. Remember you are no longer on Fifth Avenue, where you can call a policeman or a taxicab if you get lost. This vast forest is an entirely different proposition."
Theo nodded.
"How still it is," he said softly.
"Yes," rejoined his father; "that is why it means to me something that no other place can. After the rush of the city, the jangle of telephones, the constant sight of sick people, there is nothing to compare with the restfulness of these woods."
The Doctor, who had been standing with his back to the fire, his hands clasped behind him, drew out his pipe, lighted it, and puffed a ring of smoke into the air.
"You have had a very busy year, Father."
"Yes,
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