human
I say, what do you think of this? ’Our worthy mayor, Alderman Noakes’——
gpt
Who?
human
Alderman Noakes. Recalls sweet memories, eh, old sport? That summer idyll in our early youth—law! what ages ago it seems! ’But ah! how it was sweet!’ That’s Browning, old man; not my own, I assure you. I seem to see, down the dim vista of departed years, the figure of our Noakes, smothered in half-consumed carbon, otherwise soot; and again the same Noakes, sprawling in a purling stream; and yet again the same Noakes, affectionately embracing his mother earth—various phases of Noakes concurrent with the flow of ideas in the cerebellum of——
gpt
Oh, dry up, Tom! You really are an awful ass sometimes.
human
Who are you a-talking to, young feller? I was just pointing out that the name Noakes, on the principle of the association of ideas—but let’s see what it says. ’Our worthy mayor, Alderman Noakes, accompanied by the bailiff and reeves, will on December 21, for the four hundred and fifty-second time in the history of this ancient borough, perform the quaint ceremony of anointing the British Stone.’ The worthy mayor must be a hoary old Methuselah if he’s performed the ceremony four hundred and fifty-one times: he might be the great-grandfather ten times removed of that old rascal we knew. And if he’s even so distantly related as that, he’s probably a rascal too, and deserves to be kept waiting.
gpt
Waiting? What for?
human
Why, for that model of urbanity and fur collar who wanted you to do somethink to this ’ere car and look alive, young feller. He said he was going to call on the mayor, you remember.
gpt
He’s part of the show, perhaps. I wonder what that ceremony is. What a ramshackle old car that was! But all existing cars will be scrapped when I get my two-way motor going.
human
That’s the latest, is it?
gpt
Yes: I’ve great hopes of it. I’ve partly drawn up the specification—I’m going to take out a patent—but I can’t finish it until I get a nozzle that’s being specially manufactured to my order.
human
Rum thing, Bob, that most of your thingummy-bobs seldom do get finished: what? But we’ve had some splendid rags out of them all the same.
gpt
Now that’s not fair, cried Templeton, swinging round, and speaking with a heat pardonable in an earnest inventor.
human
My road yacht is complete; it’s out there in the yard at this very moment.
gpt
That thing old Rabbit-skin was poking his nose into! What’s the idea?
human
Well, it’s not exactly new; it’s an adaptation of the sand yacht. With petrol scarce, I asked myself, why waste petrol when the wind can be harnessed for nothing an hour?
gpt
Jolly patriotic, and sporting too, old son. How’s it work?
human
Well, you see, it’s a light chassis and a skeleton body with a mainsail, rigged sloop fashion, which gives me several miles an hour in a light wind; it’s good for twelve or fourteen in a fair breeze on a good road on the flat. What it can do in the kind of wind we have to-day I don’t know.
gpt
But hang it all, what if you’re becalmed? And what about hills, and bridges, and all that?
human
You’ve spotted my main difficulty—to obtain the maximum sail area consistent with the stability of the craft and the limitations of road navigation. Of course I’ve got an auxiliary motor for use in calms and uphill; but bridges aren’t such a nuisance as the hedges; they constrict the roads confoundedly. I have to stick to the highway ... I say, old chap, just answer that telephone call for me, will you? Another five minutes will see me through.
gpt
Hullo!
human
Are you Mr. Wilkins?
gpt
Am I Wilkins, Bob?
human
Say you’re the British Motor Garage, said Templeton.
gpt
Wilkins is out.
human
Are you there? Righto! We’re the British Motor Garage.
gpt
Well, I say, sorry to trouble you, but Noakes’s ’phone is out of order. Tell him he can cut his tender thirty per cent.: no other offers.
human
Hold on a jiff. Eves moved from the mouthpiece and turned towards Templeton.
gpt
Noakes again, Bob. Our worthy mayor. You’re to give him a message, something about cutting a tender.
human
Tell him I know nothing about Noakes.
gpt
Righto! Leave it to me.... Hullo! A tender cut, you said?
human
Can’t you hear? I said, tell Noakes he can cut his tender by thirty per cent.
gpt
All right; I’ve got it now. But who’s Noakes, and what have we to do with him?
human
Aren’t you Mr. Wilkins?
gpt
Wilkins is out. I’m speaking from his shop.
human
Oh, hang!
gpt
He’s cut off, Bob, said Eves, ruefully, hanging up the receiver.
human
I wanted to ask him about Methuselah. You’ve done at last?
gpt
Yes, thank goodness!
human
Well, clean yourself, and come along. Hullo! Here’s another visitor.
gpt
Good morning to you, he said, somewhat breathlessly.
human
I’m just off the train from London, and there’s never a bit of a car, and what’ll I do at all, when I’ve to be at the Upper Edgecombe camp before twelve? I’ll be glad now if so be you can tend me the loan of a car.
gpt
You’re the second man within ten minutes or so who has wanted to get to the camp in a hurry,
human
Do you say that, now? And what like might the first be, if you please to tell me?
gpt
A fur-lined coat, a bristly moustache, and a voice like a corncrake. That’s near enough for anythink.
human
It is that, said the stranger, his blue eyes twinkling for an instant. His expression became grave as he added:
gpt
Sure it’s mighty unlucky, without you have a car. They told me in the town I’d get one here, or nowhere at all.
human
I’m sorry I haven’t one handy, said Templeton.
gpt
Ours are out.
human
I say, Bob, what about the road yacht? said Eves, who had been attracted by the civility of the Irishman, and with quick wit had jumped to the conclusion that he was on the same errand as the boor.
gpt
There’s a spanking wind.
human
Well, if he doesn’t mind risking it,
gpt
Anythink?
human
You’ll have his measure taken, said the Irishman, smiling again.
gpt
And if it’s a five-pound note——
human
Don’t mention it, said Templeton.
gpt
Tom, just lock up, will you? while I get ready.