he mere removal of that one
defect was a boon beyond price; he could hammer away with confidence,
and without fear of seeing the head of his hammer leap into the next
field, unless stopped by a comrade's head.

When all the six carpenters had been supplied with these improved
hammers, the contractor came and ordered two more. He seemed to think,
and, in fact, said as much, that the blacksmith ought to make _his_
hammers a little better than those he had made for the men.

"I can't make any better ones," said honest David. "When I make a thing,
I make it as well as I can, no matter who it's for."

Soon after, the store-keeper of the village, seeing what excellent
hammers these were, gave the blacksmith a magnificent order for two
dozen, which, in due time, were placed upon his counter for sale.

At this time something happened to David Maydole which may fairly be
called good luck; and you will generally notice events of the kind in
the lives of meritorious men. "Fortune favors the brave," is an old
saying, and good luck in business is very apt to befall the man who
could do very well without it.

It so happened that a New York dealer in tools, named Wood, whose store
is still kept in Chatham Street, New York, happened to be in the village
getting orders for tools. As soon as his eye fell upon those hammers, he
saw their merits, and bought them all. He did more. He left a standing
order for as many hammers of that kind as David Maydole could make.

That was the beginning. The young blacksmith hired a man or two, then
more men, and made more hammers, and kept on making hammers during the
whole of his active life, employing at last a hundred and fifteen men.

During the first twenty years, he was frequently experimenting with a
view to improve the hammer. He discovered just the best combination of
ores to make his hammers hard enough, without being too hard.

He gradually found out precisely the best form of every part. There is
not a turn or curve about either the handle or the head which has not
been patiently considered, and reconsidered, and considered again, until
no further improvement seemed possible. Every handle is seasoned three
years, or until there is no shrink left in it.

Perhaps the most important discovery which he made was that a perfect
tool cannot be made by machinery.

Naturally, his first thought, when he found his business increasing, was
to apply machinery to the manufacture, and for some ye