America was ...

a winter's thaw of Yankee whittling boys, bred to "a reverence for wood". Huddled around evening fireplace (while the women spin, knit, sew), they splinter firelight with their dreaming knives, "each ... on the distinct job to which his greatest skill inclined ... fourteen-year-old Reliance, carving a gunstock; closer in, on the dye pot, his ten-year-old brother, Preserved, composing a slingshot (designed for game); farther back ... big Isaac (his father's right-hand man at plowing) ...finishing a chair with rushlight to aid him, and the eldest, Elihu, the difficult, sensitive boy of twenty ... the despair of his robust sixteen-year-old, practical wife -- ... fitting together the carved wood wheels of a clock." Handicraft to sell or barter in the village.

Whittle: scrape: cut: smooth: treenware for table service, tools for barn and field: "hoes, harrows, plows, ... butter paddles, salt mortars, pig troughs, pokes, sled neaps, ax helves (sawn, whittled and scraped with glass), box traps and 'figure 4' traps, flails, cheese hoops, stanchions ...."

Wares to hang from the jangling cart of the peddlar, trading from Champlain to :Florida, his "Yankee notions": cedar dipper, applewood herb mortar, whitewood plates, maple butter paddles, mint mills of applewood, nutmeg boxes; and, especially, the heavy treenware for apple produce (when cider was America's national drink, apple butter the national spread), for whatever "touched apples, according to the old way of thinking, had to be made of wood ... even a nail would ... 'quicken a souring'": apple shovels (maple, poplar, basswood, or tulip), the apple barrow, rake for the pomace (or "cheese") pressed from the apples, "cheese cutter" for cidering, paddle for the apple butter, and stirrers with sassafrass head.

Winter thaw, spring thaw of whittling boys: who had no time to devil (or sugar) the girls? To hear the schoolmaster's complaint against "vindictive Rome, who razed Carthage to the ground, and sowed her under with salt"? Why mourn a dead nation, when you burn to carve out a new one with your wizard knives? forge undreamed devices with your clanging hammers?

And it was now 1825, the Erie Canal began, John Quincy Adams (lonely patron of the sciences) was President, and a torrent of inventions ensued.

The whittling boys became America's hired men, mechanics, engineers, architects, inventors.

Their contemporaries honored these creative men as heroes. Who could predict that America was to transmogrify into another Rome? sowing their America, as if another Carthage, under salt; discarding their memories in yellowed newspapers, out-of-print books?

The barren salt-leached plains lie in torpor for a hundred years, until the cunning grass blades ferret through, threading the soil for trees and flowers to follow. And then, in a sudden winter's thaw, the busy sound:

Whittle: scrape: cut: smooth: new whittling boys splinter sunlight with their wizard knives: carving out a lost America.


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