by A S Neill
Michael's robot was a pure luxury.
"I designed one that would do no work", he said. "I call him Colonel Blimp."
Colonel Blimp was in a manner the most interesting of the lot. He strutted around saying: "Egad, sir, in my young days.." He reclined in a club armchair and talked by the hour about shootin' and huntin' and The Empiah.
Said Neill one night: "I suddenly have an idea about these robots. My theory is this, that each of us has made a robot that expresses his unconscious mind. Take Michael there. He is a Bolshie, but he makes a Blimp. Why ? Because Colonel Blimp is the unexpressed part of Michael, just as the gangster is the unexpressed part of Bunny."
"How is mine my unconscious ?" asked David, and Neill had to confess he did not know. For David's robot was a highly complicated figure. It was a Labour Leader, and a strong friendship sprang up between it and Colonel Blimp. They had so very much in common - a love of armchairs, of luxury, and, most salient of all, of talking. David had given it a United Front reinforced with steel bars across the stomach, but, in its swelling speeches, it always broke its United front, much to Colonel Blimp delight. Sometimes when a short circuit took place it went on for hours shouting: "Moscow Cold! Moscow Gold!" Neill said it was the most natural of all the robots, and suggested to David that it should be given a title, so David called it Sir Ro Bo Pink. It had very strong opinions on the wickedness of strikes, and the sight of a red flag made it homicidal. But it had a good voice, and, of an evening, the boys would get Colonel Blimp and Sir Ro Bo to sing as duets: Rule Britannia and Land of Hope and Glory. Michael tried to adjust the mechanism so that the two would sing The Internationale, but the only result was that they had to be taken to the workshop to have their big ends repaired.
Robert, whose hobby was printing, had made his robot a printer. It ran the Summerhill Daily Worker, but on the complaint of Betty and Evelyn, a censor had to be appointed, and Pyecraft was given the job. Often the Worker appeared as four pages all blacked out. So Robert lost heart, and, redesigning the circuit, he converted his printer into a personal valet. He brushed Robert's clothes in the morning, folded them at night, tied his ties, and cleaned his shoes. Neill suggested that they might all have his services, and Robert agreed to share him. But the result was not a great success, for he kept trying to put Pyecraft's trousers on Jean, and, worse still, Jean's stockings on Pyecraft. He seemed to have a fixed idea that Michael's face was a boot, and Michael got very tired of continually spitting out chunks of Nugget Polish. So Robert had to change the circuit again, and his robot became a fireman, and he was a fireman until Neill, tired of having all his cigarettes hosed out when he lit them, shoved him in the duck pond, and Robert said it was too big a job to clean the rust out of the works.
After that the robot craze wore off. The children got tired of the constant attention necessary - the oiling, charging batteries, etc, and a day came when the robots lay out in the grounds and rusted. Neill set up Colonel Blimp so that he could watch Chad's stance. Before his battery ran out the Colonel said some unprintable things about commoners who dare to play golf.
TO BE CONTINUED...
- Discussion of Chapter 11
"Not bad", said Michael, "but it couldn't have happened."
"I didn't like it at all", said Betty. "Just silly, and I didn't understand all that about Labour Leaders and that man Blimp."
"It could have been a very good chapter", said David, "if you hadn't made us do impossible things. How could we mak robot that talked or sang?"
"Still", I said, "you made no objections when I make you stand on your head and hit six eggs in the air with a gat. Isn't that just as impossible?"
"Of course it isn't", said David. "Chaps like Buffalo Bill could do that, but nobody has ever made a mechanical man that could do things you said they did."
"You might make something like a robot in a dream, though, David", said Betty.
"That", said I, "is a very illuminating thing to say, Betty. In the dream all is possible, and, if in the dream, why not in a story? After all a fairy tale is simply the dream of primitive humanity. You all like Aladdin and his lamp. Why object to Neill and his robots?"
"My point", said David, "is this. Aladdin is a fairy tale and we take it as a fairy tale, but your story could happen in some bits and is like a fairy tale in other bits."
"I agree with David", said Gordon. "Charlie Chaplin is all right in Modern Times, but if you shoved him into a film about being lost at the North Pole it would just be silly."
"What you are saying, Gordon, is that comedy or tragedy should not be combined with farce. I say why not? My robots are just as real as the machines in Wells' film Things to Come."
"Which was a rotten film", said Robert. "No, Neill, you are in the wrong this time, and the sooner you bring the story back to real things the better."
"What do you mean by real things?"
"Oh, gats and gangsters and lions and tigers and things. I want the story to be true to life."
"All right", I said, "we'll bring the story back to the realistic.”
Chapter 12
It was over a year since the cloud had made the world dead. Indeed, it was Christmas Eve, and Jean had prepared a sumptuous repast for the occasion. Robert printed the menu on his Roneo machine.
MENUE
(as read out by Bunny)
Horse Devvers, consisting of fried
Snails, Pickled Earthworms, Braised Beetles.
Mole and Mayonnaise.
Rat -Tail Soup.
Mouse Cutlet with Toothpaste Sauce.
Face-Cream Tarts, with Lipstick
Jelly.
Swiss Cheese.
Coffee.
Cigars and Liqueurs.
It was great fun. They had Xmas Crackers from the International Stores, and candles from the Co-op. They had wines and liqueurs from the wine shop, and as many cigars and cigarettes as they wanted. None of them were very hungry, and they toyed with, rather than ate, the first four courses. The real fun started with the cheese. Gordon had donned a gas mask, and he looked so funny chasing the cheese round the dining-room, that they all had to laugh. They lit their smokes, the boys all smoking cigars, and then one by one the boys wondered if it was going to rain, and one by one they went out to look at the sky. They took a long time to study the sky. Pyecraft and Neill concentrated on the liquids, and the girls had two bottles of the lemonade with the big corks. David came in from studying the sky, and Neill asked him if he would like another cigar, and David went out hurriedly again.
Later they sat around the fire and yarned about their past experiences. For the first time the girls told of their adventures with the lions and elephants, and the boys listened with bated breath.
"I wonder what the future has in store for us", said Pyecraft. "Where shall we be by next Christmas? All dead perhaps." He sighed. "For my part I don't very much care. I've had a busy and interesting life."
"Why didn't you marry ?" asked Betty, who was always interested in love stories.
Pyecraft laughed softly.
"Because you were born too late, Betty", he said gallantly. "But, seriously, I lost her because - because she liked thin men."
"That was a bit thick", said Gordon.
Pyecraft chuckled.
"She was too, when I saw her last."
"When was that?"
"I went round to her house when we were in Chicago, and there she stood holding a bottle in her hands and stonily staring at it."
"What sort of a bottle?"
"Slimming mixture", said Pyecraft.
"Poetic justice" said Betty. "Was she very fat?"
"Yes, poor Nancy had put on a bit of weight. Yet if she had married me I reckon she'd had so much to worry about that she might have remained the slim graceful creature she was forty years ago. You are putting on a bit yourself, Betty."
" I know," said Betty ruefully, "but I have cut out snails and rat liver."
The men smoked in silence for a time.
; "I fancy," said Neill, "that life is to be much duller now. Since the Germans were eaten by wolves in France it is almost certain that we are absolutely the last people alive. The wild beast danger isn't great, and since we have taken to snails, mice, beetles, and spiders, the food supply will give us no trouble."
"Couldn't we fillet the spiders?" asked Bunny. The legs keep getting into my teeth and -"
"Ugh! said Jean suddenly, and she also went out to study the weather.
"So you see", Neill continued, "life is going to be dull. We have long got over any wishes to raid shops for necklaces and knives and things. As I see it we'll just carry on here till we die of old age. In a few years the youngsters will marry and bring up families, and they may start something new in life, though I doubt if they will get very far without all the past knowledge that is lost to them. Life is going to be dull."
There was a violent, heart-rending scream and Jean came rushing in.
"There are people coming down the front drive!" she gasped.
They jumped to their feet, and each one unconsciously put a hand on a revolver. They stood thus listening with strained ears.
"Footsteps all right," whispered Neill. "Who can it be?"
A loud knock on the door.
Robert braced himself.
" C-C-Co-Come in!"
The door slowly opened, and a man stood there. Behind him were five men. Their appearance was awe-inspiring. They were all unkempt and unwashed; the stubble of weeks lay on their faces; their eyes were wild and hungry.
"Who are you?" faltered David. "What do you want?"
"Food", growled the man who had opened the door.
"Come and sit down", said Pyecraft, "and have a drink."
They shuffled in and sat down, and Pyecraft gave each a glass of brandy. Each swallowed it at a gulp. The girls had gone to the kitchen to see what they could rake up in the way of a meal. The strangers sat and said nothing.
Where did you come from ?" asked Michael in friendly tones.
"Dartmoor", said the leader.
"But how did you escape the stone cloud?"
"Dunno wot yer means by stone cloud. We was escaping and we hid down an old tin mine, and next morning we looked to see if we was being follered, and we see a warder standin' outside, so we hit him wiv a shovel and he was stone. Cud 'a knocked us down wiv a feather. Then we sees that everybody was stone."
"But how did you know we were here?" asked Neill.
"We didn't. We seen the light in the window."
The girls brought food and the convicts set to, eating like beasts without knives or forks. The wine and spirits made them more cheerful, and the leader even began to smile.
"Pardon my manners", he said, rising and making a mock bow, "but we should ha' interduced ourselves. I am Convict 99 and my pals are 23, 65, 78, 91, and 97."
"Lifers?" asked Robert.
"Yus."
"What were you in for?" asked Michael.
"Murder." 99 drained his glass, and then waved it towards his pals. "All of us was in for murder."
"Very interesting", said David with a ghastly smile.
"Did you say a tin mine?" asked Neill.
"Yus, why?"
"I was thinking about the cloud. There must have been some chemical affinity between tin oxide and the cloud, something that neutralised the petrifying property."
"That don't mean nothin' to me", said 99. He looked round the room. "Nice place you've got here. Can you give us beds for the night?"
"Easily", said Neill. "This was a school and there are any amount of beds. The food question is more difficult. We have to spend a good part of the day catching our food."
"Catching' ?" said 25. "We haven't seen nothin' to catch for weeks, not even a rat. We been livin' on tree roots and greens mostly. Where do you catch yer grub?"
"By digging mostly," said Neill. We sometimes have the luck to find a frog or a hedgehog, but mostly we look for worms and beetles and spiders."
99 suddenly looked queer.
"'Ere", he demanded, "is this grub we've been eatin' beetles and spiders ? "
"No", said Betty, "we were out of these so we gave you snails and young rats."
"Tasted OK to me", said 78 with a short laugh, and he put his hand on 99's shoulder. "Wot does it matter, Bill, when a lady stands yer a feed; it ain't manners to ask wot is in the food, is it ?" Bill grunted and poured himself a whisky.
Pyecraft and Neill showed them where they were to sleep, and then the Summerhillians sat round the fire to discuss the matter.
"Just our blinking luck to share the world with a gang of murderers", said Gordon. "I don't like it. They may kill us all in our sleep."
"That", said Neill, "is not likely. They have no motive, and no one kills without a motive; but, all the same, lock your doors and have your gats under your pillows."
"Don't worry", said Pyecraft; "they'll move on to-morrow."
They did not, however, move on on the morrow. They said that they liked company and would like to stay a few days if there was no objection. 91 seemed the most friendly of the lot, and the boys talked with him.
"Who did you murder?" asked Bunny.
"Ah", said 91, "99 was pulling your leg a bit last night, maybe to give you a bit of a thrill. We aren't all murderers. 99 is: he strangled a girl. But the others aren't. I was a company promoter, 23 a forger, 65 a burglar, 78 a pickpocket, and 97 a confidence-trick man. 99 was a lifer, but I, for instance, was a five-year man."
When they were alone the boys talked this over.
"It isn't so bad as we thought," said Michael. "There's only one murderer among them."
"That's true", said Robert, "but look here. Does it not strike you that here we have six men who were useless to society? Not only useless but sponging on society. Para - para - paradoxes."
"Paragons", corrected David.
"That's it, paragons, living on others just like fleas do. My fear is that, if we continue to feed them, they'll simply settle down here and let us go on feeding them."
By the end of the week Robert's prognostications had become clear to all.
"We can't go on feeding six lazy louts like that", said Neill. "You speak to them, David. Tell them they must help find the food if they are to stay here."
"I'm not the head of this school", said David. "Tell them yourself."
So next morning, while the boys were trapping snails on the lawn, and the convicts stood watching them, smoking cigars, Neill joined them.
"Them kids do it well", said 23. "Look at that little nipper how lie herds them into the trap."
"Why not join them and learn how it's done?" asked Neill diffidently. 23 turned to look at him.
"Me hunt snails? I may not look it now, mister, but I was a gentleman, I was. I was the best cheque forger in England."
"No doubt you were", said Neill, "but unfortunately we haven't any special use for forgeries at present. We need food."
"Well", said the forger rudely, "aren't these boys getting us food?"
"True", said Neill patiently, but it takes a lot of snails to feed us all. There are other ways of getting food: digging for worms, catching young rats, trapping mice."
99 had listened to this conversation in silence.
"The kids can easily do it", he said. "Ain't got nothin' else to do all day. And if they don't do it we'll show them how to", and he laughed significantly.
The boys had overheard most of the conversation. They had a whispered consultation, and then they walked off the lawn.
"Gone off to catch mice now, I guess", said 65, not knowing that the boys had gone on strike.
The girls also had gone on strike, and when one o'clock came 99 went to the kitchen. "'Ere", he said, "hurry up wiv that grub."
Jean calmly explained to him that there was no grub.
"Why for not ?" he demanded.
"Because if you eat in this house you have got to find your own food."
"So that's the game!" said 99 with a leer. We'll se
e about that."
He went to the dining-room and told his pals about it.
"But", he cried, "we'll make the lousy scum get our chuck. If they think that we'll work they got a lot to learn. Leave it to me", and he untied his leather belt and made it whistle through the air. He went out and met Bunny in the passage. He seized him and began to lay into him with his belt.
"I'll learn yer to do wot yer told!" he roared.
Then he felt something boring into his back, and he heard the mild voice of Betty say: "Just stick 'em up, Mr 99. If you hit that boy once more I'll send you to the place that's gaping for you."
99 put up his hands. Betty said: "March !" and she marched him out to the road. "Now get for good", she said, and she stood covering him till he was beyond range. Meanwhile the boys had covered the other convicts and they marched them out to the road also. They looked as if they might try a rush, but Pyecraft fired a rifle over their heads and they ran away like rabbits.
"A good riddance", said Robert with a sigh of relief.
"They'll come back", said Evelyn nervously. "I heard them talking and one of them said that he was sorry they had left their revolvers behind 'cos they were heavy to carry and there were no animals to kill. They'll go and get them and come back."
Neill said he didn't think so, but the others said that they wouldn't take any risks, and they began to fortify the house. They barricaded the windows with boards, and reinforced the doors with iron bars. They posted sentries around during the day while they searched for food, and at night time they sat in the darkness listening. A week went by.
"They'll never come back now", said Neill.
"They will", said Pyecraft gloomily. "I have a presentiment that that 99 will get me."
With TheWeapons Of A Woman; by F K Waechter
"Nonsense", said Neill. "Why do you say 99?"
