CANTERBURY

Down a path of flat, jagged stones secreted by tented spindles of trees, up a flight of stairs that thrust, slanting, through a creaky barn, through a ponderous door with an old iron latch that clicks decisively beneath your thumb, master and apprentice ply their trade.

Leather apron around his waist, Tom McLaughlin turns a table leg on a lathe, matching the grain with the shape, curve on curve.

David Mentzer handles a leg for another table, contrastingly simple and plain. He pierces the wood with a power chisel, creating a mortise that will form one side of a tight joint. Sweet, hot mahogany dust perfumes the air.

Here in this workshop are the makings of a mini renaissance. Here, woodworking has a soul.

McLaughlin is a furniture master, one of 28 artists whose goal is to return tradition, artistry and culture to the trade of furniture making. Mentzer is an apprentice, sawing and sanding under McLaughlin's tutelage, much like a tradesman of the Middle Ages.

Classic in concept, the apprenticeship program also represents the future of fine furniture making.

"We're trying to recapture the apprentice feeling and recreate that," said McLaughlin, who learned his trade by apprenticing under a master craftsman 12 years ago. "There's a lot of potential to create a revival of those days of quality furniture making."

Until now, McLaughlin has done business primarily through commissioned pieces. Having an apprentice will allow him to open his own shop, early next year, where he'll sell pieces to the public and conduct occasional workshops for woodworking novices.

Mentzer's end of the deal isn't bad either. Unlike the apprentices of past centuries, who served essentially as slaves in exchange for their training, Mentzer will be paid for the sellable work he produces. "It works out well for both of us," said Mentzer who moved here from Ohio last month.

There are few other places in the country Mentzer could gain such experience, never mind getting paid at the same time. Fine furniture making is almost a lost art in these days of mass-produced factory pieces.

"It's almost like we're swimming against the tide," McLaughlin said.

But they're making steady progress. In its sixth year, the New Hampshire Furniture Master Association is a nationally known organization whose members can barely meet the growing demand for fine studio furniture.

"Everybody has more than enough work," McLaughlin said. "You can tell that by the camaraderie. We're not in competition with each other. . . . We realize that together we're stronger."

McLaughlin hopes the budding apprenticeship program will further strengthen the organization. This year for the first time, several students and apprentices will display their work alongside the masters, whose pieces are on exhibit this week at the Forest Society in Concord.

By soliciting fresh, unpolished talent, the Masters hope to expand their craft while promoting New Hampshire as a haven for woodworkers. They someday hope to establish a furniture making school with shops, offices and a gallery.

True masters, though, will be years in the making.

Under a sprinkling of pale sawdust in McLaughlin's workshop is one of the pieces he'll sell at the Furniture Masters' annual auction next month. Burnished mahogany trimmed in ebony, it opens to reveal an inlaid chess table. The game board is not the table's only secret. Anyone can appreciate the simple beauty of the piece, but a trained eye will discover the details that set it apart.

Where the two sides of the tabletop meet, McLaughlin has matched the waves of wood grain. On the apron, he turned the grain vertically to accentuate the table's lush curves.

McLaughlin loves this marriage of precision with creative freedom. His favorite thing is the hunt for the perfect piece of wood.

Adhering to the standards of pre-industrial age woodworking, McLaughlin also loves using old-fashioned tools. When he conducts a workshop, he teaches his students to use a hand mortise before he lets them use the power mortise tool.

Many power tools can speed up the efficiency of woodworking without compromising the quality of the work. But McLaughlin believes certain things should be done by hand to preserve the "soul" of the piece. He makes the dovetail joints in his drawers by hand, slightly varying their sizes sometimes to copy the look of antique pieces.

"It gives people a more intimate connection to the maker of the piece," he said.

Mentzer has yet to attempt a piece as ambitious as McLaughlin's game table. But he is learning to recognize the marks of fine furniture. "The level of refinement and the focus on detail is something I really appreciate," he said.

A graduate of the University of Cincinnati with a degree in architecture, Mentzer first worked with McLaughlin three years ago as part of his school's co-op program. "I loved it from the beginning," he said.

At the end of Mentzer's stay, McLaughlin invited him back for an apprenticeship.

Mentzer isn't sure how long he'll be here this time. He's now learning how to construct simple pieces such as Shaker end tables, which McLaughlin believes will be the bread and butter of their new business.

But the education process won't stop with Mentzer. The Furniture Masters' success hinges largely on their ability to teach the public to appreciate things like pegged mortise and tenon jointery.

"Most people really only understand furniture in terms of mass-produced," McLaughlin said. "Our furniture becomes a true family heirloom."