Bright Ideas: A Record of Invention and Misinvention

by Herbert Strang

  *II*

  Fellow-members of the Sixth Form, and close friends, Eves and Templetonwere spending the holidays together by force of circumstances. Thelatter was an orphan, and lived with his aunt. She, having embraced thetemporary career of lecturer on food economy, had arranged that hernephew should undertake voluntary farm work with Giles Trenchard, whosewife was an old family servant of the Templetons', and at whose farm, inthe Dorset village we will call Polstead, Miss Templeton had visitedmore than once. Eves's parents were in India, and the London lawyer inwhose guardianship he was placed raised no objection when he proposed tospend the holidays with his friend.

  Five Oaks Farm was of no great size, and had been the property of theTrenchard family for generations. The present owner, a hale old yeomanwhose features were framed for perennial cheerfulness, had latterlylooked rather careworn. A year before the war an epidemic among hiscattle had caused him heavy losses. Both his sons had joined the Armyand were now fighting in France, a constant source of anxiety. Beingshort-handed, he was glad enough to avail himself of the voluntary helpof the two strapping schoolboys of seventeen, and they had already,though only three days at the farm, firmly established themselves in thegood graces of both host and hostess by their readiness to turn theirhands to any kind of work.

  Templeton, however, had not come to this remote rural spot merely towork on the land. He had a serious belief that he was cut out for aninventor, the only ground for which was an astonishing fertility ofideas. At school he was always in hot water with the masters; he wouldrather construct an automatic hair-cutter than a Latin prose. Theprospect of a six or seven weeks' stay in the quiet village, with thesea within a mile, held promise for Templeton of many opportunities forworking out his ideas. There were hours of leisure even on the farm, andMr. Trenchard, whom he had at once taken into his confidence, wasimpressed by his earnestness and put an old barn at his disposal,pleasing himself with the hope that some great invention would spring tobirth on Five Oaks Farm.

  Templeton took himself very seriously, and, as often happens, attractedto himself a very unlike character in Tom Eves, to whom life was onedelightful comedy; even the flint-hearted lawyer was matter forjokes--except at end of term. While having a genuine admiration forTempleton, Eves's humorous eye was quick to see the lighter side of hisfriend's experiments, and he shared in them for the sake of the funwhich he did not often trouble to disguise.

  That evening, when work was over, Eves and Templeton strolled down tothe seashore together to discuss plans for the smoke machine.

  "You see," said Templeton in his most earnest manner, "in things likethis you can't do better than follow the example of most otherinventors, and see if anything in the natural world will give us astart."

  "'Follow Nature,'" chuckled Eves. "You remember old Dicky Bird settingthat as an essay theme?"

  "Yes; he sent mine up for good."

  "He jawed me: sarcastic owl! He was always asking for homelyillustrations, as he called them, and when I gave him one he snapped myhead off. I wrote, 'An excellent example of the application of thisphilosophical maxim in practical life is afforded by the navvy, who, asthe most casual observer will often have noticed, dispenses with ahandkerchief when he has a cold in the head.' A jolly good sentence,what?"

  "But I don't see----"

  "Oh, it's not worth explaining; it was the explanation that rattled theDicky Bird. What were you saying?"

  "I was saying we ought to get a hint from Nature. What's the object ofthe smoke machine?"

  "To make a deuce of a smother, of course."

  "Yes, to enable a vessel to hide itself from a submarine. Well, what'sthe nearest thing in Nature?"

  "Give it up; I'm no good at conundrums."

  "This isn't a conundrum; it's a scientific fact. You alarm acuttle-fish, and it squirts out an inky fluid that conceals it from itsenemy."

  "You don't say so! Jolly clever of it. Ought to be called thescuttle-fish. But how does that help you? You want your cloud in theair, not in the water."

  "Of course. The idea is to produce a large volume in a short time, ofgreat opacity, yet spreading rapidly over a large area. What's thenearest parallel in Nature?"

  "Human nature?"

  "I said Nature."

  "Well, human nature's a part of Nature; and, if you ask me, I should saya careless cook and a foul kitchen chimney--the fire engine up, and amonth's notice."

  "I do wish you'd be serious. But you've hit it all the same.Half-consumed carbon----"

  "You mean soot?"

  "Soot is half-consumed carbon. That's the stuff we want. It's the verything, because a steamship produces loads of it every day. All you wantis a suitable apparatus and what you may call a firing charge. I'lljust make a note."

  He took out his note-book, and wrote in his very neat handwriting thefollowing tabular statement:

  SMOKE MACHINE.

  REQUIRED.

  1. Soot.2. Combustibles.3. Receptacle.4. Vehicle.

  "Four-wheelers are cheap, but bang goes your tenner, Bobby," said Eves,looking over his shoulder. "Can't you do without the vehicle?"

  "You don't understand. We must have something to carry the receptaclealong at a good speed, like a ship at sea. A motor-boat would be thevery thing, but that's out of the question. We must find somethingcheap to experiment with on land, and if it works I'll send the schemeto the Admiralty, and they'll provide funds for marine tests."

  "Jolly good idea! I suggest we take the things in order. Soot first.What about that? There won't be much in the chimneys. MotherTrenchard's sure to have had a spring cleaning."

  "We'll see. Combustibles are easily got."

  "Fire-lighters! You can get 'em at old Noakes's; they make a fine smokethemselves and a jolly good stink. Splendid!"

  "They might do. I don't see my way to numbers three and four atpresent, but I'll ask Trenchard if he has anything he could let us havecheap; he takes a great interest in my inventions."

  "Good, old bird. I say, it's about supper-time; we'd better get back.You didn't say anything to Mrs. Trenchard about barley water and friedonions and margarine?"

  "Not yet."

  "Good man! She'll be quite satisfied with Aunt Caroline's love. Comeon."

  At supper, in the farmer's raftered living-room, while Templeton wasconsidering how to open up the matter of soot with Mrs. Trenchard, Evessuddenly began to sniff.

  "Is that a smell of soot?" he said. "Does the chimney need sweeping,Mrs. Trenchard?"

  "There now!" exclaimed the farmer's wife, a comfortable-looking matronsome years younger than her husband. "If I didn't say to Trenchard Iwas sure the noses of you London gentlemen would find it out! Us countrybodies don't notice it, bless you."

  Eves grinned.

  "'Tis true," the good woman went on; "it do need the brush. But there,what can you do when the milingtary takes the only sweep in the villageand makes a soldier of him? I declare I didn't know him, he was soclean. 'Tis a strange thought: the war makes men clean and chimneysdirty."

  "And takes away my appetite," said Eves, with his mouth half full ofbacon. "Look here, Mrs. Trenchard, you're going to market to-morrowmorning; why shouldn't we sweep the chimney for you while you're away?I'm sure Templeton and I could do it, and we'd like to, awfully."

  "'Tis very kind of you, that I will say; but I couldn't abear to thinkof you dirtying yourselves."

  "Oh, that's nothing. We get dirty enough on the farm."

  "But that be clean dirt, not like the bothersome sut. Besides, there'sno chimney brush and no rods."

  "Quite unnecessary," declared Eves. "Templeton has invented a new way ofsweeping chimneys, haven't you, Bob?" He gave him a kick under thetable. "You've no idea what a lot of useful notions he's got in hishead."

  "Well now, did you ever?" said Mrs. Trenchard. "Do 'ee tell me all aboutit, Mr. Templeton."

  "To-mor
row, Mrs. Trenchard," said Eves, hastily. "You see, it's quitenew, and hasn't been properly tried yet. An inventor never likes totalk about his inventions until he's proved they're a success."

  "Ay sure; he's in the right there," said Mr. Trenchard.

  "I knew you'd agree," said Eves. "Well, then, we've settled that wesweep the chimney while you're out, Mrs. Trenchard, and we'll tell youall about it when you get back. You'll be delighted, I assure you."

  When they went up to the room they shared, Templeton turned upon hischum a face of trouble, and began:

  "Look here, old man, it isn't right, you know. You know very well Ihave not invented a way of----"

  "Hold hard! You don't mean to tell me you haven't got it all cut anddried?"

  "Well, when you began gassing, of course I had to think of something tosave my face."

  "I knew it! The idea was there; it only wanted switching on, likeelectricity. What's the scheme?"

  "Still, I don't think you ought----"

  "The scheme! Out with it."

  "Well, I thought we might get on the roof with a long cord, with weightsand a bundle of straw tied to one end, and jerk it up and down insidethe chimney."

  "And the soot falls, and great is the fall of it! Splendid! Couldn'tbe better. We'll have a ripping day to-morrow."

  Next morning, soon after breakfast, Mrs. Trenchard set off for themarket town, driving one of the light carts herself. The farmer wentoff to his mangold fields; the maids were busy in the dairy across theyard; and the inventors had the house to themselves. The simplematerials they needed were easily obtained, and within an hour the novelsweeping apparatus was ready. It had been decided that Templeton shouldclimb to the roof, while Eves remained in the room to see how theinvention succeeded.

  Only when he was left to himself did it occur to Eves that somethingshould be hung in front of the fireplace to prevent the soot from flyinginto the room, as he had seen done by professional sweeps, and he ran tothe potato shed to find an old sack or two that would answer thepurpose. While he was still in the shed, a man entered the yard andlooked cautiously around. He was a strange figure. A straw slouch hat,yellow with age, covered long, greasy black hair. His long, straightupper lip was clean shaven, but his cheeks and chin were clothed withthick, wiry whiskers and beard. He wore a rusty-black frock-coat, greytrousers very baggy at the knees, and white rubber-soled shoes. It wasnone other than Philemon Noakes, the owner of the village store, grocer,oilman, draper, seedsman--a rustic William Whiteley.

  Seeing no one about, he approached the farmhouse, walking without oncestraightening his legs, glanced in at the open door, then round theyard, and, after hesitating a moment, entered the room. Mr. Trenchard'sdesk, open and strewn with papers, stood against the wall to the left.Noakes walked to it, and had just bent down, apparently with the objectof looking over the farmer's correspondence, when a muffled sound fromthe neighbourhood of the fireplace caused him to start guiltily and turnhalf round.

  At that moment Eves, carrying a couple of sacks, arrived at the door.Seeing the man start away from the desk, he stepped back out of sight towatch what was going on.

  Noakes, as if to resolve a doubt or satisfy his curiosity, crept acrossthe room, doubled himself, and looked up the chimney. There was arattling sound, and Noakes was half obliterated in a mass of soot,clouds of which floated past him into the room. Hatless, choking,rubbing his eyes, he staggered back.

  "THERE WAS A RATTLING SOUND, AND NOAKES WAS HALFOBLITERATED."]

  "I say, Mr. Noakes, what _are_ you up to?" said Eves, entering with thesacks. "What a frightful mess you're in!"

  "'Tis your doing," spluttered Noakes, shaking the soot from his clothes."'Tis you, I know 'tis, and I'll--I'll----"

  "Gently, Mr. Noakes, don't be rash. Why you should accuse me when I'mperfectly innocent--you've hurt my feelings, Mr. Noakes."

  "What about my feelings?" shouted the angry man. "'Tis a plot betwixtyou and t'other young villain, and----"

  "Really, Mr. Noakes, with every consideration for your wounded feelings,I must say I think you most insulting. Who on earth was to know thatyou'd be paying one of your visits just at the moment when the chimneywas being swept, and would choose that very moment to look up thechimney? You surely didn't expect to find Mr. Trenchard there?"

  Noakes glared; at the same time his eyes expressed a certain uneasiness.How much had this smooth-spoken young ruffian seen? Picking up his hathe shook the soot from it, rammed it on his head, and strode to thedoor. There he turned, shouted, "You've not heard the last of this," andhurried away.

  When Templeton came in a minute later he found Eves sitting back in achair, shaking with laughter.

  "My word, what a frightful mess!" exclaimed Templeton. "I forgot allabout a covering. It's nothing to laugh at."

  "Oh, isn't it! If you'd only seen him, soot all over his greasy head,and the more he rubbed his face the worse it got."

  "What on earth are you talking about?"

  "Old Noakes. It's a priceless invention, Bob. Great minds don't thinkof little things, but _I_ remembered the covering and fetched these twosacks. When I got back Noakes was here, prying into Trenchard's papers.But I fancy he heard a sound, for he went over to the chimney, andthen--by George! you've missed the funniest sight ever seen. He's onlyjust gone, in a most frightful paddy."

  "I don't wonder. Don't see anything funny in it myself. I called down'Are you ready?' and if you'd been here as we arranged it wouldn't havehappened."

  "Of course it wouldn't, and old Noakes wouldn't have been jolly wellpaid out for sneaking. What's he want nosing about at a time when hethought every one was out? Trenchard must be told."

  "I don't know about that, but I do know we'd better clear up this messbefore Mrs. Trenchard gets back."

  "Or she'll think precious little of your invention. It's a greatsuccess, anyway; you've got more soot than you expected. And old Noakescarried away a lot."