Fighting the Flames

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER ELEVEN.

  WONDERFUL PLANS.

  When Willie Willders knocked at Tom Tippet's door, at the top of thehouse, a rich jovial bass voice cried, "Come in." So Willie went in,and stood before a stout old gentleman, whose voluminous whiskers,meeting below his chin, made ample amends for the total absence of hairfrom the top of his head.

  Mr Tippet stood, without coat or vest, and with his braces tied roundhis waist, at a carpenter's bench, holding a saw in his right hand, anda piece of wood in his left.

  "Well, my lad, what's _your_ business?" he inquired in the voice of astentor, and with the beaming smile of an elderly cherub.

  "Please, sir, a note--from a lady."

  "I wish your message had been verbal, boy. It's so difficult to readladies' hands; they're so abominably angular, and--where _are_ my specs?I've a mind to have 'em screw-nailed to my nose. Ah! here they are."

  He found them under a jack-plane and a mass of shavings; put them on andread the note, while Willie took the opportunity of observing that MrTippet's room was a drawing-room, parlour, dining-room, workshop, andold curiosity-shop, all in one. A half-open door revealed the fact thatan inner chamber contained Mr Tippet's bed, and an indescribable massof machinery and models in every stage of progression, and covered withdust, more or less thick in exact proportion to their respective ages.A dog and cat lay side by side on the hearth asleep, and a small fireburned in a grate, on the sides of which stood a variety of cruciblesand such-like articles and a glue-pot; also a tea-pot and kettle.

  "You want a situation in my office as a clerk?" inquired Mr Tippet,tearing up his sister's letter, and throwing it into the fire.

  "If you please, sir," said Willie.

  "Ha! are you good at writing and ciphering?"

  "Middlin', sir."

  "Hum! D'you know where my office is, and what it is?"

  "No, sir."

  "What would you say now," asked Mr Tippet, seating himself on hisbench, or rather on the top of a number of gimblets and chisels andfiles and pincers that lay on it; "what would you say now to sittingfrom morning till night in a dusty ware-room, where the light is sofeeble that it can scarcely penetrate the dirt that encrusts thewindows, writing in books that are so greasy that the ink can hardly begot to mark the paper? How would you like that, William Willders--eh?"

  "I don't know, sir," replied Willie, with a somewhat depressed look.

  "Of course you don't, yet that is the sort of place you'd have to workin, boy, if I engaged you, for that is a correct description of mywarehouse. I'm a sleeping partner in the firm. D'ye know what that is,boy?"

  "No, sir."

  "Well, it's a partner that does no work; but I'm wide-awake for allthat, an' have a pretty good notion of what is going on there. Now,lad, if I were to take you in, what would you say to 5 pounds a year?"

  "It don't sound much, sir," said Willie bluntly, "but if you take me inwith the understandin' that I'm to work my way up'ards, I don't mindabout the pay at first."

  "Good," said Mr Tippet, with a nod of approval. "What d'ye think of myworkshop?" he added, looking round with a cherubic smile.

  "It's a funny place," responded Willie, with a grin.

  "A funny place--eh? Well, I daresay it is, lad, in your eyes; but letme tell you, it is a place of deep interest, and, I may add withoutvanity, importance. There are inventions here, all in a state borderingmore or less upon completion, which will, when brought into operation,modify the state of society very materially in many of its mostprominent phases. Here, for instance, is a self-actinggalvano-hydraulic engine, which will entirely supersede the use ofsteam, and, by preventing the consumption of coal now going on, willavert, or at least postpone, the decline of the British Empire. Ablemen have calculated that, in the course of a couple of hundred years orso, our coal-beds will be exhausted. I have gone over theircalculations and detected several flaws in them, which, when corrected,show a very different result--namely, that in seventeen or eighteenyears from this time there will not be an ounce of coal in the kingdom!"

  Mr Tippet paused to observe the effect of this statement. Williehaving never heard of such things before, and having a thoughtful andspeculative as well as waggish turn of mind, listened with open eyes andmouth and earnest attention, so Mr Tippet went on:

  "The frightful consequences of such a state of things you may conceive,or rather they are utterly inconceivable. Owing to the foundations ofthe earth having been cut away, it is more than probable that thepresent coal districts of the United Kingdom will collapse, the oceanwill rush in, and several of our largest counties will become salt-waterlakes. Besides this, coal being the grand source of our nationalwealth, its sudden failure will entail national bankruptcy. Thebarbarians of Europe, taking advantage of our condition, will pour downupon us, and the last spark of true civilisation in our miserable worldwill be extinguished--the last refuge for the hunted foot of persecutedFreedom will be finally swept from the face of the earth!"

  Here Mr Tippet brought the saw down on the bench with such violence,that the dog and cat started incontinently to their legs, and Williehimself was somewhat shaken.

  "Now," continued Mr Tippet, utterly regardless of the sensation he hadcreated, and wiping the perspiration from his shining head with ahandful of shavings; "now, William Willders, all this may be, _shall_be, prevented by the adoption of the galvano-hydraulic engine, and theconsequent restriction of the application of coal to the legitimatepurposes of warming our dwellings and cooking our victuals. I mean tobring this matter before the Home Secretary whenever I have completed myinvention, which, however, is not _quite_ perfected.

  "Then, again," continued Mr Tippet, becoming more and more enthusiasticas he observed the deep impression his explanations were making onWillie, who stood glaring at him in speechless amazement, "here you havemy improved sausage-machine for converting all animal substances intoexcellent sausages. I hold that every animal substance is more or lessgood for food, and that it is a sad waste to throw away bones and hair,etcetera, etcetera, merely because these substances are unpalatable ordifficult to chew. Now, my machine gets over this difficulty. You cutan animal up just as it is killed, and put it into the machine--hair,skin, bones, blood, and all--and set it in motion by turning on thegalvano-hydraulic fluid. Delicious sausages are the result in abouttwenty minutes.

  "You see my dog there--Chips I call him, because he dwells in the midstof chips and shavings; he sleeps upon chips, and if he does not exactlyeat chips, he lives upon scraps which have a strong resemblance to them.The cat has no name. I am partial to the time-honoured name of `Puss.'Besides, a cat is not worthy of a name. Physically speaking, it isonly a bundle of living fur--a mere mass of soft animated nature, asGoldsmith would express it. Intellectually it is nothing--a sort ofexistent nonentity, a moral void on which a name would be utterly thrownaway. Well, I could take these two animals, Chips and Puss, put them inhere (alive, too, for there is a killing apparatus in the instrumentwhich will effectually do away with the cruel process of slaughtering,and with its accompanying nuisances of slaughter-houses and butchers)--put them in here, I say, and in twenty minutes they would be ground upinto sausages.

  "I know that enemies to progress, ignorant persons and the like, willscoff at this, and say it is similar to the American machine, into oneend of which you put a tree, and it comes out at the other end in theshape of ready-made furniture. But such scoffs will cease, while myinvention will live. I am not bigoted, William. There may be goodobjections to my inventions, and great difficulties connected with them,but the objections I will answer, and the difficulties I will overcome.

  "This instrument," continued Mr Tippet, pointing to a huge beam, whichleant against the end of the small apartment, "is only a speculativeeffort of mine. It is meant to raise enormous weights, such as houses.I have long felt it to be most desirable that people should be able toraise their houses from their foundations by the strength of a few men,and convey them to other localiti
es, either temporarily or permanently.I have not succeeded yet, but I see my way to success; and, after all,the idea is not new. You can see it partially carried out by anenterprising company in this city, whose enormous vans will remove thewhole furniture of a drawing-room, almost as it stands, without packing.My chief difficulty is with the fulcrum; but that is a difficulty thatmet the philosopher of old. You have heard of Archimedes, William--theman who said he could make a lever big enough to move the world, if hecould only get a fulcrum to rest it on. But Archimedes was weak in thatpoint. He ought to have known that, even if he did get such a fulcrum,he would still have required another world as long as his lever, toenable him to walk out to the end of it. No, by the way, he might havewalked _on_ the lever itself! That did not occur to me before. Hemight even have ridden along it. Come, that's a new idea. Let me see."

  In order the better to "see," Mr Tippet dropt the piece of wood fromhis left hand, and pressed his fingers into both eyes, so as to shut outall earthly objects, and enable him to take an undistracted survey ofthe chambers of his mind. Returning suddenly from the investigation, heexclaimed:

  "Yes, William, I don't quite see my way to it; but I can perceive dimlythe possibility of Archimedes having so formed his lever, that a line ofrails might have been run along the upper side of it, from the fulcrumto the other end."

  "Yes, sir," exclaimed Willie, who, having become excited, was enteringeagerly into his patron's speculations, and venting an occasional remarkin the height of his enthusiasm.

  "Such a thing _might_ be done," continued Mr Tippet emphatically; "asmall carriage--on the galvano-hydraulic principle, of course--might runto and fro--"

  "With passengers," suggested Willie.

  "Well--with passengers," assented Mr Tippet, smiling. "Of course, thelever would be very large--extremely large. Yes, there _might_ bepassengers."

  "An' stations along the line?" said Willie.

  Mr Tippet knitted his brows.

  "Ye-yes--why not?" he said slowly. "Of course, the lever would be verylong, extremely long, and it might be necessary to stop the carriages onthe way out. There might be breadth sufficient on the lever to plantsmall side stations."

  "An' twenty minutes allowed for refreshments," suggested Willie.

  "Why, as to that," said Mr Tippet, "if we stop at all, there could beno reasonable objection to refreshments, although it is probable wemight find it difficult to get anyone sufficiently enterprising toundertake the supply of such a line; for, you know, if the lever were toslip at the fulcrum and fall--"

  "Oh!" exclaimed Willie, "_wouldn't_ there be a smash; neither!"

  "The danger of people falling off, too," continued Mr Tippet, "might beprevented by railings run along the extreme edges of the lever."

  "Yes," interrupted Willie, whose vivid imagination, unused to suchexcitement, had taken the bit in its teeth and run away with him; "an'spikes put on 'em to keep the little boys from swinging on 'em, an'gettin' into mischief. Oh! what jolly fun it would be. Only think!we'd advertise cheap excursion trains along the Arkimeedis Line, Mondaysan' Toosdays. Fares, two hundred pounds, fust class. No seconds orparleys allowed for love or money. Starts from the Fuddlecrum Sta--"

  "Fulcrum," said Mr Tippet, correcting.

  "Fulcrum Station," resumed Willie, "at 2:30 a.m. of the mornin'precisely. Stops at the Quarter, Half-way, an' Three-quarter Stations,allowin' twenty minutes, more or less, for grub--weather permittin'."

  "Your observations are quaint," said Mr Tippet, with a smile; "butthere is a great deal of truth in them. No doubt, the connection ofsuch ideas, especially as put by you, sounds a little ludicrous; butwhen we come to analyse them, we see their possibility, for, _if_ alever of the size indicated by the ancient philosopher were erected (andtheoretically, the thing _is_ possible), then the subordinatearrangements as to a line of railway and stations, etcetera, would bemere matters of detail. It might be advertised, too, that the balanceof the lever would be so regulated, that, on the arrival of the train atthe terminus, the world would rise (a fact which might be seen by theexcursionists, by the aid of enormous telescopes, much better than bythe people at home), and that, on the return of the train, the worldwould again sink to its ancient level.

  "There would be considerable risk, no doubt," continued Mr Tippetmeditatively, "of foolish young men and boys getting over the rails insport or bravado, and falling off into the depths of illimitableprofundity, but--"

  "We could have bobbies stationed along the line," interrupted Willie,"an' tickets put up warnin' the passengers not to give 'em money on noaccount wotsomedever, on pain o' bein' charged double fare for thefirst offence, an' pitched over the rails into illimidibblepro-what's-'is-name for the second."

  "I'll tell you what it is, William," said Mr Tippet suddenly, gettingoff the bench and seizing the boy's hand, "your talents would be wastedin my office. You'll come and assist me here in the workshop. I'mgreatly in want of an intelligent lad who can use his hands; but, by theway, can you use your hands? Here, cut this piece of wood smooth, withthat knife."

  He handed Willie a piece of cross-grained wood and a blunt knife.

  Willie looked at both, smiled, and shook his head.

  "It would take a cleverer feller than me to do it; but I'll try."

  Willie did try; after a quarter of an hour spent in vain attempts, hethrew down the wood and knife exclaiming, "It's impossible."

  Mr Tippet, who had been smiling cherubically, and nodding approval,said:

  "I knew it was impossible, my lad, when I gave it to you, and I now knowthat you are both neat-handed and persevering; so, if you choose, I'llengage you on the spot to come on trial for a week. After that we willsettle the remuneration. Meanwhile, shake hands again, and allow me toexpress to you my appreciation of the noble character of your brother,who, I understand from my sister's letter, saved a young relative ofmine from the midst of imminent danger. Good-night, William, and cometo me on Monday next, at nine o'clock in the morning."

  Willie was somewhat perplexed at this prompt dismissal (for Mr Tippethad opened the door), especially after such a long and free-and-easyconversation, and he felt that, however much license Mr Tippet mightpermit, he was a man of stern will, who could not be resisted withimpunity; so, although he was burning to know the object and nature ofinnumerable strange pieces of mechanism in the workshop, he feltconstrained to make a polite bow and depart.

  On his way downstairs, he heard the voices of men as if in angrydisputation; and on reaching the next floor, found Mr Barret standingat the open door of his room, endeavouring to hold Ned Hooper, who wasstruggling violently.

  "I tell you," said the latter, in a drunken voice, "that I w-will goout!"

  "Come, Ned, not to-night; you can go to-morrow" said Barret soothingly,yet maintaining his hold of his friend.

  "W-why not? ain't night the best time to--to--be jolly?--eh! L-me go, Ishay."

  He made a fierce struggle at this point; and Barret, ceasing toexpostulate, seized him with a grasp that he could not resist, anddragged him forcibly, yet without unnecessary violence, into the room.

  Next instant the door was shut with a bang and locked; so WillieWillders descended to the street, and turned his face homewards,moralising as he went on the evils of drink.

  It was a long way to Notting Hill; but it was not long enough to enableWillie to regain his wonted nonchalance. He had seen and heard too muchthat night to permit of his equilibrium being restored. He pursed hismouth several times into the form of a round O, and began "RuleBritannia"; but the sounds invariably died at the part where the"charter of the land" is brought forward. He tried "The Bay of Biscay,O!" with no better success, never being able to get farther than"lightning's vivid powers," before his mind was up in the clouds, or inMr Tippet's garret, or out on the Archimedes-Lever Railway.

  Thus wandering in dreams he reached home, talked wildly to his anxiousmother, and went to bed in a state of partial insanity.