- Joined
- Feb 19, 2001
- Messages
- 360
I have a friend named Earl, well actually his name is not really Earl, I have changed his name for this writing to protect the innocent and perhaps the guilty as well. And so here we go with the story of Earl and the Marbles knife.
My friend Earl always seems to have a few short, rusty pieces of pipe, angle iron, rebar and other assorted metal scrap in the bed of his old pickup. He insists that he might need such items in the future and to date has accumulated quite a bit, and as far as I know, he has needed none of it. The sounds of all that loose metal rolling and bouncing around preceded his arrival at my house and interrupted the yard work I was doing. I was glad for an excuse to get out of the July sun.
As we sat in the shade and drank ice tea our conversation drifted around to knives as it usually does. Earl handed me something wrapped in a shop towel and unwrapping it I saw that it was an old, stag handled Marbles knife, a Woodcraft model.
I just traded for that the other day, Earl said. Pretty neat little knife I think.
It was a neat knife as he had said. However anytime I think that Earl is offering an item to me for sale or trade my mind goes into a suspicious, defensive, on-guard state. Thats because of the many knife deals Earl and I have made, Im pretty sure he got the best deal every time. He is a better trader than I am, and since he and I both know it; Im operating at a big disadvantage. Id like to think Ive learned a few things along the way though, so I immediately went into my trading with Earl mode.
Marbles Woodcraft with 4 pin stag handle
Yea, its alright, I said in the most disinterested manner I could muster. Too bad its been poorly sharpened, there is some pitting near the tip, and the sheath is kind of ragged. Then afraid that maybe Id run it down too far I added, The stag is nice though. I finished up with, I like it, Earl, but its probably just a little rough for me.
I dont remember offering it to you, Earl said. And why are you downing my little knife down so bad? If you dont see the good in this knife you may have been out here working in the sun too long. He reached his hand out and took the Marbles back.
Well you know the kind of knives I collect, Earl, I said trying to defend myself.
Yes I do, Earl said, Clean, shiny, unused, made by the latest, popular, hard-to-get custom maker. Or old knives that have been kept in a drawer their whole life and never did a lick of knife work. There is more to knives than all that you know.
You look at this knife and see some scruffy piece of a knife that that could never fit into your collection of untainted beauties. You see the wear, and the pitting, and the marks of use and abuse. When you look at this little knife all you see is the imperfections. Now Ill admit its got some condition issues, but thats not all I see.
I see my dad and my granddad and the men they hunted with. They nearly all had hunting knives of this sort, stag handles or stacked leather on most that I remember. They hunted deer and bear with Winchester and Marlin, and Savage lever guns and some few had bolt action Model 70s or 54s. Some of those men were as old then as we are now and I remember them all when I look at a little knife like this.
I look at this little knife and I can see my granddad using his little Marbles knife to show me how to field dress my first deer, and then later that night cutting up meat and vegetables for the camp stew. I have my dads Marbles knife. It has a leather handle and a stag pommel. I think it was the only hunting knife he ever owned and the wear shows all the work it helped him do. I have my uncles knife too, its a Remington. Those men are all long gone but its easy for me to see them when I handle a nice old knife like this little Marbles.
Knives like this stir up good memories for me. They connect me to the past and where Im from and bring back clear visions of another time. I was going to try to trade you the knife in hopes of broadening the way you see knives, but I can see thats out of the question. My foolish optimism allows me to believe there may be hope for you yet, and so I am going to do something that is contrary to my nature. I am going to give you this knife. I want you to look at it sometimes and try to get past whats obvious and see a little deeper. If it doesnt work, well I tried and will just have to admit that I was on a fools errand.
Looking at his watch Earl stood up, handed me the knife and started toward his pickup. I cant be late, he said, Miss Ruby will feed my supper to the dog if I am.
As Earls truck with its noisy cargo clanged and banged its way down the twisting road from my house, I wondered what exactly had just happened. Even though Earl had given me the knife, one thing was clear; as usual in our dealings, I had the feeling that he had come out on top.
Text and photo copyright Bill North 2013
My friend Earl always seems to have a few short, rusty pieces of pipe, angle iron, rebar and other assorted metal scrap in the bed of his old pickup. He insists that he might need such items in the future and to date has accumulated quite a bit, and as far as I know, he has needed none of it. The sounds of all that loose metal rolling and bouncing around preceded his arrival at my house and interrupted the yard work I was doing. I was glad for an excuse to get out of the July sun.
As we sat in the shade and drank ice tea our conversation drifted around to knives as it usually does. Earl handed me something wrapped in a shop towel and unwrapping it I saw that it was an old, stag handled Marbles knife, a Woodcraft model.
I just traded for that the other day, Earl said. Pretty neat little knife I think.
It was a neat knife as he had said. However anytime I think that Earl is offering an item to me for sale or trade my mind goes into a suspicious, defensive, on-guard state. Thats because of the many knife deals Earl and I have made, Im pretty sure he got the best deal every time. He is a better trader than I am, and since he and I both know it; Im operating at a big disadvantage. Id like to think Ive learned a few things along the way though, so I immediately went into my trading with Earl mode.
Marbles Woodcraft with 4 pin stag handle
Yea, its alright, I said in the most disinterested manner I could muster. Too bad its been poorly sharpened, there is some pitting near the tip, and the sheath is kind of ragged. Then afraid that maybe Id run it down too far I added, The stag is nice though. I finished up with, I like it, Earl, but its probably just a little rough for me.
I dont remember offering it to you, Earl said. And why are you downing my little knife down so bad? If you dont see the good in this knife you may have been out here working in the sun too long. He reached his hand out and took the Marbles back.
Well you know the kind of knives I collect, Earl, I said trying to defend myself.
Yes I do, Earl said, Clean, shiny, unused, made by the latest, popular, hard-to-get custom maker. Or old knives that have been kept in a drawer their whole life and never did a lick of knife work. There is more to knives than all that you know.
You look at this knife and see some scruffy piece of a knife that that could never fit into your collection of untainted beauties. You see the wear, and the pitting, and the marks of use and abuse. When you look at this little knife all you see is the imperfections. Now Ill admit its got some condition issues, but thats not all I see.
I see my dad and my granddad and the men they hunted with. They nearly all had hunting knives of this sort, stag handles or stacked leather on most that I remember. They hunted deer and bear with Winchester and Marlin, and Savage lever guns and some few had bolt action Model 70s or 54s. Some of those men were as old then as we are now and I remember them all when I look at a little knife like this.
I look at this little knife and I can see my granddad using his little Marbles knife to show me how to field dress my first deer, and then later that night cutting up meat and vegetables for the camp stew. I have my dads Marbles knife. It has a leather handle and a stag pommel. I think it was the only hunting knife he ever owned and the wear shows all the work it helped him do. I have my uncles knife too, its a Remington. Those men are all long gone but its easy for me to see them when I handle a nice old knife like this little Marbles.
Knives like this stir up good memories for me. They connect me to the past and where Im from and bring back clear visions of another time. I was going to try to trade you the knife in hopes of broadening the way you see knives, but I can see thats out of the question. My foolish optimism allows me to believe there may be hope for you yet, and so I am going to do something that is contrary to my nature. I am going to give you this knife. I want you to look at it sometimes and try to get past whats obvious and see a little deeper. If it doesnt work, well I tried and will just have to admit that I was on a fools errand.
Looking at his watch Earl stood up, handed me the knife and started toward his pickup. I cant be late, he said, Miss Ruby will feed my supper to the dog if I am.
As Earls truck with its noisy cargo clanged and banged its way down the twisting road from my house, I wondered what exactly had just happened. Even though Earl had given me the knife, one thing was clear; as usual in our dealings, I had the feeling that he had come out on top.
Text and photo copyright Bill North 2013
Win....Win
