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The Weathercock: Being the Adventures of a Boy with a Bias, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 28. Rowing Superseded |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. ROWING SUPERSEDED "That there Mr Distin 'll have his knife into me for what I said about him. Oh, dear me, what a blunder I did make!" "Yes, wrong as wrong," said Constable Bates, as he came away from the Little Manor, "and me niver to think o' they two lungeing looking young dogs. Why, of course it was they. I can see it clear now, as clear--a child could see it. Well, I'll soon run them down." Easier said than done, for the two gipsy lads seemed to have dropped quite out of sight, and in spite of the help afforded by members of the constabulary all round the county the two furtive, weasel-like young scamps could not be heard of. They and their gang had apparently migrated to some distant county, and the matter was almost forgotten. "It doesn't matter," Vane said, as he grew better. "I don't want to punish the scamps, I want to finish my boat;" and as soon as he grew strong he devoted all his spare time to the new patent water-walker as Macey dubbed it, and at which Distin now and then delivered a covert sneer. For this scheme was the outcome of the unfortunate ride on the river that day when Vane sat dreaming in the boat and watching the laborious work of those who wielded the oars and tried to think out a means of sending a boat gliding through the water almost without effort. He had thought over what had already been done as far as he knew, and pondered over paddle-wheels and screws with the mighty engines which set them in motion, but his aquatic mechanism must need neither fire nor steam. It must be something simple, easily applicable to a small boat, and either depend upon a man's arm or foot, as in the treadle of a lathe, or else be a something that he could wind up like old Chakes did the big clock, with a great winch key, and then go as long as he liked. It took so much thinking, and he was so silent indoors, that Aunt Hannah told the doctor in confidence one night that she was sure poor Vane was sickening for something, and she was afraid that it was measles. "Yes," said the doctor with a laugh, "sort of mental measles. You'll see he will break out directly with a rash--" "Oh, my dear," cried Aunt Hannah, "then hadn't he better be kept in a warm bed?" "Hannah, my beloved wife," said the doctor, solemnly, "is it not time you learned to wait till your ill-used husband has finished his speech before you interrupt him? I was saying break out directly with a rash desire to spend more money upon a whim-wham to wind up the sun." "Ah, now you are joking," said Aunt Hannah. "Then you do not think he is going to be ill again?" "Not a bit." It all came out in a day or two, and after listening patiently to the whole scheme-- "Well," said the doctor, "try, only you are not to go beyond five pounds for expenses." "Then you believe in it, uncle," cried Vane, excitedly. "I am not going to commit myself, boy," said the doctor. "Try, and if you succeed you may ride us up and down the river as often as you like." Vane went off at once to begin. "Five pounds, my dear," said Aunt Hannah, shaking her head, "and you do not believe in it. Will it not be money wasted." "Not more so than five pounds spent in education," replied the doctor, stoutly. "The boy has a turn for mechanics, so let him go on. He'll fail, but he will have learned a great deal about ics, while he has been amusing himself for months." "About Hicks?" said Aunt Hannah, innocently, "is he some engineer?" "Who said _Hicks_?" cried the doctor, "I said ics--statics, and dynamics and hydraulics, and the rest of their nature's forces." "Oh," said Aunt Hannah, "I understand," which can only be looked upon as a very innocent fib. Meanwhile Vane had hurried down to the mill, for five pounds does not go very far in mechanism, and there would be none to spare for the purchase of a boat. "Hallo, squire," roared the miller, who saw him as he approached the little bridge, "you're too late." "What for--going out?" "Going out? What, with all this water on hand. Nay, lad, mak' your hay while the sun shines. Deal o' grinding to do a day like this." "Then why did you say I was too late?" said Vane. "For the eels running. They weer coming down fast enew last night. Got the eel trap half full. Come and look." He led the way down through a flap in the floor to where, in a cellar-like place close to the big splashing mill wheel, there was a tub half full of the slimy creatures, anything but a pleasant-looking sight, and Vane said so. "Reight, my lad," said the miller, "but you wait till a basketful goes up to the Little Manor and your Martha has ornamented 'em with eggs and crumbs and browned 'em and sent 'em up on a white napkin, with good parsley. Won't be an unpleasant sight then, eh? Come down to fish?" "No," said Vane, hesitating now. "Oh, then, you want the boat?" "Yes, it was about the boat." "Well, lad, there she is chained to the post. You're welcome, only don't get upset again and come back here like drowned rats." "I don't want to row," said Vane. "I--er--that is--oh, look here, Mr Rounds," he cried desperately, "you can only say no. I am inventing a plan for moving boats through the water without labour." "Well, use the oars; they aren't labour." "But I mean something simpler or easier." "Nay, theer aren't no easier way unless you tak a canoe and paddle." "But I'm going to invent an easier way, and I want you to lend me the boat for an experiment." "What!" roared the miller, "you want to coot my boat to pieces for some new fad o' yourn. Nay, lad, it aren't likely." "But I don't want to cut it up." "Say, coot, lad, coot; don't chop your words short; sounds as if you were calling puss wi' your cat." "Well, then I don't want to coot up the boat, only to fit my machine in when it's ready, and propel the boat that way." "Oh, I see," said the miller, scratching his big head. "You don't want to coot her aboot." "No, not at all; I won't even injure the paint." "Hum, well, I don't know what to say, lad. You wouldn't knock her aboot?" "No; only bring my machine and fit it somewhere in the stern." "Sort o' windmill thing?" "Oh, no." "Oh, I see, more like my water-mill paddles, eh?" "Well, I don't quite know yet," said Vane. "What, aren't it ready?" "No; I haven't begun." "Oh. Mebbe it never will be." "Oh, yes, I shall finish it," said Vane. "Hey, what a lad thou art for scheming things; I wish you'd mak' me a thing to grind corn wi'out weering all the face off the stones, so as they weant bite." "Perhaps I will some day." "Ay, there'd be some sense in that, lad. Well, thou alway was a lad o' thy word when I lent you the boat, so you may have her when you like; bood I'll lay a wager you don't get a machine done as'll row the boat wi' me aboard." "We'll see," cried Vane, excitedly. "Ay, we will," said the miller. "Bood, say, lad, what a one thou art for scheming! I say I heered some un say that it was one o' thy tricks that night when church clock kep' on striking nine hundred and nineteen to the dozen." "Well, Mr Round--" "I know'd: thou'd been winding her oop wi' the kitchen poker, or some game o' that sort, eh?" "No, I only tried to clean the clock a little, and set it going again." "Ay, and left all ta wheels out. Haw--haw--haw!" The miller's laugh almost made the mill boards rattle. "I say, don't talk about it, Mr Round," cried Vane; "and, really, I only forgot two." The miller roared again. "On'y left out two! Hark at him! Why, ivery wheel has some'at to do wi' works. Theer, I weant laugh at thee, lad, only don't fetch us all oot o' bed another night, thinking the whole plaace is being bont aboot our ears. Theer tak' the boat when you like; you're welcome enew." Vane went off in high glee, and that day he had long interviews with Wrench the carpenter, and the blacksmith, who promised to work out his ideas as soon as he gave them models or measurements, both declaring that they had some splendid "stooff" ready to "wuck off," and Vane went back to his own place and gave every spare moment to his idea. That propeller took exactly two months to make, for the workmen always made the parts entrusted to them either too short or too long, and in fact just as a cobbler would make a boot that ought to have been the work of a skilful veteran. "It's going to be a rum thing," said Macey, who helped a great deal by strolling down from the rectory, sitting on a box, and drumming his heels on the side, while he made disparaging remarks, and said that the whole affair was sure to fail. The doctor came in too, and nodded as the different parts were explained; but as the contrivance was worked out, Vane found that he had to greatly modify his original ideas; all the same though, he brought so much perseverance to bear that the blacksmith's objections were always overridden, and Wrench the carpenter's growls suppressed. One of the greatest difficulties encountered was the making the machine so self-contained that it could be placed right in the stern of the boat without any need for nails or stays. But Vane had a scheme for every difficulty, and at last the day came when the new propeller was set up in the little workshop, and Distin, brought by curiosity, accompanied Gilmore and Macey to the induction. Vane was nervous enough, but proud, as he took his fellow-pupils into the place, and there, in the middle, fixed upon a rough, heavy bench, stood the machine. "Why, you never got that made for five pounds?" cried Gilmore. "N-no," said Vane, wincing a little, "I'm afraid it will cost nearly fifteen. I had to make some alterations." "Looks a rum set-out," continued Gilmore, and Distin stood and smiled. "Oh, I say, while I remember," cried Gilmore, "there was a little girl wanted you this morning, Dis. Said she had a message for you." "Oh, yes, I saw her," said Distin, nonchalantly. "Begging--I saw her." "She'll always be following you," said Macey. "Why, that makes four times she has been after you, Dis." "Oh, well, poor thing, what can one do," said Distin, hurriedly; "some mother or sister very ill, I believe. But I say, Vane," he continued, as if eager to change the conversation, "where is this thing to go?" "In the stern of the boat." "Stern? Why, it will fill the boat, and there will not be room for anything else." "Oh, but the future ones will be made all of iron, and not take up half the space." Gilmore touched a lever and moved a crank. "Don't, don't," yelled Macey, running to the door, "it will go off." There was a roar of laughter, in which all joined, and Vane explained the machine a little more, and above all that this was only a tentative idea and just to see if the mechanism would answer its purpose. "But, I say," cried Gilmore, "it looks like a wooden lathe made to turn water." "Or a mangle," said Distin, with a sneer of contempt. "Wrong, both of you," cried Macey, getting toward the door, so as to be able to escape if Vane tried to get at him. "I'll tell you what it's like--a knife-grinder's barrow gone mad." "All right," said Vane, "laugh away. Wait till you see how it works." "When are you going to try it?" said Gilmore. "To-morrow afternoon. Mr Round's going to send a cart for it and four of his men to get it down." "We will be there," said Macey with a scowl such as would be assumed by the wicked man in a melodrama, and then the workshop was locked up. _ |
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