Things mended. Things reclaimed. Things ``good as ever.'' His contribution when he too was no longer new. Slow old hands, intimate with wood. Soothing wounds with glue heated over flame. Building patina with linseed (raw). Softening straps with neat's-foot. Sinking pegs below surfaces he tamed under his slow hands until a chair looked preened, a table proud. Until the old things spoke again of elegance and chic or equally of awkward charm -- birthright recovered at last under his slow hands. When he spoke, it was thriftiness and waste . . . thriftiness and waste.
Fay Campbell Kaynor