said.
We examined the third stage, at which some of the grinding had been
done, and he called off the different facets as they are named in the
industry—the table, or flat top of the stone, which is left
comparatively big; the smaller flat bit at the bottom, which is the
culet, and the girdle, where top and bottom meet. Moving along to the
more advanced model, he showed the stars, the kites, the halves and
pentagons and so on. It looked to me purely and simply an exercise in
solid geometry. Then Mr. Briefel put the model away and brought out a
few samples of the real thing: rough diamonds. He described the
questions a trained cutter must ask himself and answer before he begins
on a stone. If there are piques, or black spots, the trick is to cut so
that these are removable in the polishing without too much loss of
weight; that is, they should be as near as possible to the surface. An
experienced man can see the spots and recognize their position
immediately, where an amateur like me might be misled by distortion and
magnification, seeing the spot through the diamond. Moreover, the
trained cutter must be able to judge the color of his stone in the
rough; he should be able, within reasonable limits, to prophesy what
color it will be when it has been cut, which is sometimes a different
one to the hue of the uncut crystal. Then there is the question of the
proper angles of the facets. The ancient Indian cutters had some
inkling of the fact that facets help a stone sparkle, but they didn't
work out the angles at which the fire would be greatest. Today it is up
to the grinder and polisher to make no mistake about that, and
sacrifice no light.
We
put the samples away and started our rounds of the factory. Mr.
Briefel took me first to a room where a man sat alone at a bench, a
vise clamped to the edge of the table in front of