<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</SPAN></span></p>
<h2><SPAN name="VII" id="VII"></SPAN>VII</h2>
<h3>IRON, THE EVERYDAY METAL</h3>
<p>Did you ever realize that your food and clothes,
your books, and the house in which you live all
depend upon iron? Vegetables, grains, and fruits
are cultivated with iron tools; fish are caught with
iron hooks, and many iron articles are used in the
care and sale of meat. Clothes are woven on iron
looms, sewed with iron needles, and fastened together
with buttons containing iron. Books are
printed and bound by iron machines, and sometimes
written with iron pens or on iron typewriters.
Houses are put together with nails; and indeed,
there is hardly an article in use that could be made
as well or as easily if iron was not plenty. If you
were making a world and wanted to give the people
the most useful metal possible, the gift would have
to be iron; and the wisest thing you could do would
be to put it everywhere, but in such forms that the
people would have to use their brains to make it of
service.</p>
<p>This is just the way with the iron in our world.
Wherever you see a bank of red sand or red clay or
a little brook which leaves a red mark on the ground
as it flows, there is iron. Iron is in most soils, in red
bricks, in garnets, in ripening apples, and even in
your own blood. It forms one twentieth part of the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</SPAN></span>
crust of the earth. Iron dissolves in water if you
give it time enough. If you leave a steel tool out of
doors on a wet night, it will rust; that is, some of the
iron will unite with the oxygen of the water. This is
rather inconvenient, and yet in another way this
dissolving is a great benefit. Through the millions
of years that are past, the oxygen of the rain has
dissolved the iron in the hills and has worked it
down, so that now it is in great beds of ore or in rich
"pockets" that are often of generous size. One of
them, which is now being mined in Minnesota, is
more than two miles long, half a mile wide, and of
great thickness. The rains are still at work washing
down iron from the hills. They carry the tiny particles
along as easily as possible until they come upon
limestone. Then, almost as if it was frightened, the
brook drops its iron and runs away as fast as it can.
Sometimes it flows into a pond or bog in which are
certain minute plants or animals that act as limestone
does, and the particles of iron fall to the bottom
of the pond. In colonial days much of the iron
worked in America was taken from these deposits.
One kind of iron is of special interest because it
comes directly from the sky, and falls in the shape of
stones called "meteorites," some of which weigh
many tons. In some of the old fables about wonderful
heroes, the stories sometimes declare that the
swords with which they accomplished their deeds of
prowess fell straight from the heavens, which probably
means that they were made of meteoric iron.
Fortunately for the people and their homes, meteorites<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</SPAN></span>
are not common, but every large museum has
specimens of them.</p>
<p>It is not especially difficult to make iron if you
have the ore, a charcoal fire in a little oven of stones,
and a pair of bellows. Put on layers of charcoal alternating
with layers of ore, blow the bellows, and by
and by you will have a lump of iron. It is not really
melted, but it can be pounded and worked. This is
called the "Catalan method," because the people of
Catalonia in Spain made iron in this way. It is still
used by the natives of the interior of Africa. But if
all the iron was made by this method, it would be
far more costly than gold. The man who makes iron
in these days must have an immense "blast furnace,"
perhaps one hundred feet high, a real "pillar
of fire." Into this furnace are dropped masses of
ore, and with it coke to make it hotter and limestone
to carry off the silica slag, or worthless part. To
increase the heat, blasts of hot air are blown into
the bottom of the furnace. This air is heated by
passing it through great steel cylinders as high as
the furnace. The fuel used is nothing more than the
gases which come out at the top of the furnace.</p>
<p>The slag is so much lighter than iron that when
the ore is melted the slag floats on top just as oil
floats on water, and can be drained out of the furnace
through a higher opening than that through
which the iron flows. The slag tap is open most of the
time, but the iron tap is opened only once in about
six hours. It is a magnificent sight when a furnace
is "tapped" and the stream of iron drawn off.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</SPAN></span>
Imagine a great shed, dark and gloomy, with many
workmen hurrying about to make ready for what
is to come. The floor is of sand and slopes down
from the furnace. Through the center of this floor
runs a long ditch straight from the furnace to the
end of the shed. Opening from it on both sides are
many smaller ditches; and connecting with these
are little gravelike depressions two or three feet long
and as close together as can be. These are called
"pigs." When the time has come, the workmen
gather about the furnace, and with a long bar they
drill into the hard-baked clay of the tapping hole.
Suddenly it breaks, and with a rush and a roar the
crimson flood of molten iron gushes out. It flows
down the trench into the ditches, then into the pigs,
till their whole pattern is marked out in glowing
iron. Now the blast begins to drive great beautiful
sparks through the tapping hole. This means that
the molten iron is exhausted. The blast is turned
off, and the "mud-gun" is brought into position and
shoots balls of clay into the tapping hole to close it
for another melting, or "drive." The crimson pigs
become rose-red, darken, and turn gray. The men
play streams of water over them and the building
is filled with vapor. As soon as the pigs are cool
enough, they are carted away and piled up outside
the building.</p>
<p>In some iron works moulds of pressed steel carried
on an endless chain are used instead of sand floors.
The chain carries them past the mouth of a trough
full of melted iron. They are filled, borne under
water to be cooled, and then dropped upon cars. A
first-class machine can make twenty pigs a minute.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</SPAN></span></p>
<p class="figcenter" style="width: 368px;">
<ANTIMG src="images/image062.jpg" width-obs="368" height-obs="580" alt="IN THE STEEL FOUNDRY" title="IN THE STEEL FOUNDRY" />
<span class="caption">IN THE STEEL FOUNDRY<br/><br/>
It is a dangerous business to visit a steel mill. Tremendous kettles
travel overhead on huge cranes, hot metal flows from unexpected places,
and there is a constant glow and steam and roar everywhere to confuse
the unwary.</span></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Most of the iron made in blast furnaces is turned
into steel. Steel has been made for centuries, but
until a few years ago the process was slow and
costly. A workman's steel tools were treasures, and
a good jackknife was a valuable article. Railroads
were using iron rails. They soon wore out, but at
the suggestion to use steel, the presidents of the
roads would have exclaimed, "Steel, indeed! We
might as well use silver!" Trains needed to be
longer and heavier, but iron rails and bridges could
not stand the strain. Land in cities was becoming
more valuable; higher buildings were needed, but
stone was too expensive. Everywhere there was a
call for a metal that should be strong and cheap.
Iron was plentiful, but steel was dear. A cheaper
method of making iron into steel was needed; and
whenever there is pressing need of an invention, it
is almost sure to come. Before long, what is known
as the "Bessemer process" was invented. One great
difficulty in the manufacture of steel was to leave
just the right amount of carbon in the iron. Bessemer
simply took it all out, and then put back exactly
what was needed. Molten iron, tons and tons
of it, is run into an immense pear-shaped vessel
called a "converter." Fierce blasts of air are forced
in from below. These unite with the carbon and
destroy it. There is a roar, a clatter, and a clang.
Terrible flames of glowing red shoot up. Suddenly
they change from red to yellow, then to white; and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</SPAN></span>
this is the signal that the carbon has been burned
out. The enormously heavy converter is so perfectly
poised that a child can move it. The workmen
now tilt it and drop in whatever carbon is needed.
The molten steel is poured into square moulds,
forming masses called "blooms," and is carried
away. More iron is put into the converter, and the
work begins again.</p>
<p>The Bessemer process makes enormous masses of
steel and makes it very cheaply; but it has one
fault—it is too quick. The converter roars away
for a few minutes, till the carbon and other impurities
are burned out; and the men have no control
over the operation. In what is called the "open-hearth"
process, pig iron, scrap iron, and ore are
melted together with whatever other substances
may be needed to make the particular kind of steel
desired. This process takes much longer than the
Bessemer, but it can be controlled. Open-hearth
steel is more homogeneous,—that is, more nearly
alike all the way through,—and is better for some
purposes, while for others the Bessemer is preferred.</p>
<p>Steel is hard and strong, but it has two faults.
A steel bar will stand a very heavy blow and not
break, but if it is struck gently many thousand
times, it sometimes crystallizes and may snap. A
steel rail may carry a train for years and then may
crystallize and break and cause a wreck. Inventors
are at work discovering alloys to prevent this crystallization.
The second fault of steel is that it rusts
and loses its strength. That is why an iron bridge or<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</SPAN></span>
fence must be kept painted to protect it from the
moisture in the air.</p>
<p>If all the iron that is in use should suddenly disappear,
did you ever think what would happen?
Houses, churches, skyscrapers, and bridges would
fall to the ground. Railroad trains, automobiles, and
carriages would become heaps of rubbish. Ships
would fall apart and become only scattered planks
floating on the surface of the water. Clocks and
watches would become empty cases. There would
be no machines for manufacturing or for agriculture,
not even a spade to dig a garden. Everybody
would be out of work. If you wish to see how it
would seem, try for an hour to use nothing that is
of iron or has been made by using iron.</p>
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