Bright Ideas: A Record of Invention and Misinvention

by Herbert Strang

  *I*

  Eves was dozing comfortably beneath a pile of blankets. It was a coldmorning, and though he had been awakened when Templeton rose from theadjacent bed, he had merely snorted in reply to his friend's declarationthat it was time to get up, and turned over on the other side.

  His slumbering ears were just conscious of a shout from below; but hepaid no heed to it, even when it was repeated. He was settling down inluxurious warmth to that early morning sleep which so deliciously roundsoff the night's repose, when two sinewy hands wrenched away thebedclothes wherein he had rolled himself, and Templeton shouted:

  "Get up, you slugabed. It's come!"

  "Cover me up, confound you!" cried Eves, wrathfully. "I shall catch mydeath of cold."

  "Get up. I've been dressed half an hour. It's come, I tell you."

  Eves bent his knees and pulled his pyjamas down over his ankles.

  "I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't care. Mrs.Pouncey"--he raised his voice--"come and drag this murdering ruffianaway. He's giving me pneumonia."

  "Don't be an ass, Tom. Breakfast is nearly ready, and as the nozzle hasjust come by parcel post, I want to fix it and see how it works before Igo off to the shop."

  "You and your inventions will be the death of me," grumbled Eves,hugging himself. Then with a sudden movement he caught up his pillow,slammed it at Templeton's head, followed it up with a rush, and began tothrow off his pyjamas. "Get out!" he cried. "I'll tub and dress infive minutes--not for you, old greaser, but for the bacon I smellfrying."

  "Well, I'll have time to fit on the nozzle before you're down."

  He dashed out of the room, took the staircase in three resounding leaps,and ran bare-headed through the rain to the shed.

  Eves smiled as he watched him through the window.

  "Old Bob's excited this morning," he thought. "Another rag, I wonder?"

  Templeton's usual stolidity was in fact quite broken down by the arrivalof the nozzle made to his own design, for which he had been waiting inorder to complete his reconstruction of the ancient road-sweeper. Atbreakfast he was too much excited to do full justice to the dish ofbacon and eggs which the excellent Mrs. Pouncey had provided.

  "It's just the thing, Tom," he cried. "It fits perfectly, and I believethe old 'bus will go like one o'clock. The only thing left, if it doeswork, is to complete my specification and fire it in at the PatentOffice."

  "I don't see that. Nobody wants a road-sweeper to go like aRolls-Royce."

  "You don't understand. I'm not out for making road-sweepers. I onlybought the old thing to experiment on. It's the reversible steering I'mgoing to patent. Look here; here's my rough draft. That'll give you anidea of what I'm driving at."

  Eves took the paper handed to him, and read aloud:

  "'I, Robert Templeton, of the Red House, Wonston, Hampshire, in theKingdom of England, lately a lieutenant in His Majesty's Forces, dohereby declare the nature of this invention and in what manner the sameis to be performed to be particularly described and ascertained in andby the following----'

  Oh, I say! I can't wade through all this balderdash. Tell me in plainEnglish what you're after."

  "Well, in plain English, then, my motor is provided with two sets ofsteering-gear, and the clutch couplings are so arranged that I canengage one and disengage the other simply by shifting round on the seat,on the pivot of which a cam is keyed----"

  "For goodness' sake, Bob, spare me the rest, if that's plain English.D'you mean that you can drive your 'bus forward or backward as youplease?"

  "You can put it like that if you like, only, of course, the 'bus isalways going forward, because when you shift round on the seat----"

  "Exactly. Not a word more. Why couldn't you say that in a sentenceinstead of meandering through page after page? Why, hang it all, thiswill make a book before you've done with it."

  "It does seem a little long-winded," Templeton admitted, seriously, "butyou've no idea how particular the Patent Office people are. You have tobe correct in the smallest detail, and draw diagrams showing everything.There's a lot of work to be done on this draft yet before it's ready."

  "Well, let's go and see how it works in practice. I'd die happy if Ithought one of your old inventions was really going to make yourfortune."

  "I'm afraid there isn't time now. I must hurry off to the shop. Butwe'll try it to-night when I get back. It's a pity old Wilkins insistedon my working out my week's notice; I'd have liked to devote all my timeto it."

  "Can't you forfeit your screw or something?"

  "I offered to, but Wilkins wouldn't hear of it, and as I hate bothers,and my leaving without notice would certainly put him in a hole, I'llstick it till Saturday. Are you coming with me to the shop?"

  "I'll walk with you so far; then I'll go on to the town and inquiretenderly after Noakes. We'll meet at the 'Three Tuns' for lunch. Mrs.Pouncey will be glad of a day off."

  Encased in macintoshes, they trudged up the muddy lane. At the cornerthey met a farmer driving his cart westward. He nodded to Templeton.

  "You've gotten she at last, zur," he said, with a smile.

  "Yes; all right now, Mr. West."

  "Ay. I knowed she'd come, gie un time. Gie un time, I said, and she'llcome. Well, marnen to 'ee, zur."

  "Who's your she, Bob?" asked Eves as they went on.

  "Oh, he means the nozzle. They're fond of the feminine about here."

  "But how on earth does he know anything about the nozzle? It came bypost, you said?"

  "Yes. I suppose the postman told him. You're not used to country ways."

  "But how did the postman know what was in the parcel? They don't openthings, I suppose?"

  "Of course not. I dare say I mentioned to the postman one day what Iwas expecting, and they gossip about anything and everything here."

  "What a place! Look here, my son, you'll have one of your inventionsforestalled one of these days if you don't keep your mouth shut. Thenyou'd be sorry."

  It was not Eves's way to keep his mouth shut, and he expatiated on theevils of talkativeness all the way to the workshop, where the friendsparted. The same topic was revived when they met at the "Three Tuns"for lunch.

  "Wilkins was unusually amiable to-day," Templeton happened to remark."He seemed quite pleased that the nozzle is a success."

  "Were you juggins enough to tell him that?" asked Eves with a touch ofscorn.

  "Well, what else could I do when he asked me point-blank? I didn'tmention it first."

  "I suppose he heard of it from the postman or from Farmer West, or fromany other inhabitant of this gossiping old monkey-house. Wilkins is thelast man who ought to know anything about your private affairs. Upon myword, I think I'd better get demobilised and take a job as your keeper.You're not fit to be trusted alone."

  After lunch Eves accompanied Templeton to the shop, and watched over himwith fatherly interest through the afternoon. He was amused to seeTempleton from time to time break off his work on a purely mechanicaljob, hurry to his coat hanging on a peg, extract the specification fromhis breast-pocket, and make some trifling alteration in text or diagram.

  "Is that the result of what they call unconscious cerebration?" heasked. "Or can your mighty mind attend to two things at once? You're awonder, Bobby, and I hope I shall live long enough to write you athumping obituary notice."