"Mother, you know last year when I said I were going 'iking in the mountains of Uberwald with me mates, well, it were kind of ... sort of ... a kind of lie, only very small, mind you." Dick blushed. "You see, I found t'keys to Dad's old shed and, well, I went back to Sheepridge and did some experimenting and ..." he loked at his mother anxiously, "I think I know what 'e were doing wrong."
Dick braced for stiff objections, but he hadn't reckoned on tears - so many tears - and as he tried to console her he added, "You, Mother and Uncle Flavius got me an education, you got me knowing of the numbers, including the arithmetic and wierd stuff dreamed up by the philosophers in Ephebe where even camels can do logarithms on their toes. Dad didn't know this stuff. He had the right ideas but he didn't have the ... tech-nol-ogy right."
At this point, Dick allowed his mother to talk, and she said, "I know there's no stopping you, our Dick, you're just like your stubborn father were, pigheaded. Is that what you've been doin' in the barn? Teck-ology?" She looked at him accusingly, then sighed. "I can see I can't tell you what to do, but you tell me: how can your 'logger-reasons' stop you goin' the way of your poor old dad?" She started sobbing again.
Dick pulled out of his jacket something that looked like a small wand, which might have been made for a miniature wizard, and said, "This'll keep me safe, Mother! I've the knowing of the sliding rule! I can tell the sine what to do, and the cosine likewise and work out the tangents of t'quaderatics! Come on, Mother, stop fretting and come wi' me now to t'barn. You must see 'er!"
Mrs Simnel, reluctant, was dragged by her son to the great open barn he had kitted out like the workshop back at Sheepridge, hoping against hope that her son had accidentally found himself a girl. Inside the barn she looked hopelessly at a large circle of metal which covered most of the floor. Something metallic whizzed round and round on the metal, sounding like a squirrel in a cage, giving off a smell much like camphor.
"Here she is, Mother. Ain't she champion?" Dick said happily. "I call her Iron Girder!"
"But what is it, son?"
He grinned hugely and said, "It's what they call a pro-to-type, Mother. You've got to 'av a pro-to-type if you're going to be an engineer."
His mother smiled wanly but there was no stopping Dick. The words just tumbled out.
"The thing is, Mother, before you attempt owt you've got to 'ave some idea of what it is you want to do. One of the books I found in the library was about being an architect. And in that book, the man who wrote it said before he built his next big 'ouse he always made quite tiny models to get an idea of how it would all work out. He said it sounds fiddly and stuff, but going slowly and being thorough is the only way forward. And so I'm testing 'er out slowly, seeing what works and what doesn't. And actually, I'm quite proud of me'sen. In the beginning I made t'track wooden, but I reckoned that the engine I wanted would be very 'eavy, so I choppe up t'wooden circle for firewood and went back to t'forge."
Mrs Simnel looked at the little mechanism running around and round on the barn floor and said, in the voice of someone really trying to understand, "Eee, lad, but what does it do?"
"Well, I remembered what Dad said about t'time he were watching t'kettle boiling and noticed t'lid going up and down with the pressure, and he told me that one day someone would build a bigger kettle that would lift more than a kettle lid. And I believe I have the knowing of the way to build a proper kettle, Mother."
"And what good would that do, my boy?" said his mother sternly.
And she watched the glow in her son's eyes as he said, "Everything, Mother. Everything."
and the underground... whoopee cant wait to get on :D
