I talked recently with a man who still pursues the ancient, but fast dying, art of repairing old chinaware.
Seated at his low bench, and surrounded by a motley collection of cups and vases in various stages of decay, he swiftly inserted a brass stitch in a forlorn-looking plate.
Although the work involves the use of a hammer, diamond drill and perhaps a file on pieces of eggshell china, breakages are surprisingly low. He estimated that during four thousand repairs he had broken perhaps six pieces.
The nature of the job demands heavy service from the right arm, so much so that it becomes muscle-bound at times. The right shoulder, I was told, tends to assume Joe Louis proportions, or, as he so aptly put it, "you become strong on one side."
Confessing that there was not much of a living attached to the work nowadays, he added reflectively: "It's an interesting job, and you meet all sorts of people." The majority of his customers are women, and many a time a quaint little figure has crossed the threshold hugging a sixpenny cup or the like, which needs a stitch or two.
Although the repair may cost three or four shillings, she will amble out, well satisfied with a deal which has restored former glory to a treasure whose sentimental value is everything.
The Irish Times,
February 18th, 1939.