A Measure of Hardened Steel

I stepped into the quiet shed behind the yard, where the scent of machine oil and cold iron hung dense in the air. Upon a stout oak stump rested a cast-steel anvil, scarred by strikes yet immovably grounded. Beside its polished horn lay a heavy forged steel spring-divider, its needle points slightly sprung apart. I did not leave the span unchecked. Leaning my weight against the knurled brass thumbscrew, I rotated the collar thread by thread. The twin legs drew together with stubborn resistance until the sharp tips met squarely over a scratched metal rule. The measure locked dead. Nothing shifted.