"Makes me wonder whether all these types are simply different witnesses descriptions of the same creature?" mused Timmy aloud as he replaced the book on its shelf.
"That's an astute observation, albeit mistaken, but I can quite understand why you might be tempted to entertain it", said Charles jovially "these are early days for your voyage of discovery and ere long, you may find yourself wondering how much, if any, of what your previous assumptions were accurate."
Timmy's mind had been more exercised than ever, since he'd begun to work for George the artisan. Between the demands upon his imagination and craft skills, interspersed with daily talks with Charles and Freda, followed by a slow and careful perusal of his mother's book, he was torn between exhilaration and exhaustion.
For example the artisan had become so enthusiastic at finally finding another man who was equally fascinated with inventing and making new mechanical playthings, that he'd driven both Timmy and himself to make the most of every minute of the day.
They would shout new ideas at each other as they worked feverishly, almost as if in competition to see who could come up with the best way to build something because the workshop was becoming transformed thanks to their joyful collaboration.
"I say George I've just thought of something. You know those little figurines we make for that idea of mine? Why don't we make as few different parts as possible, say eight per character, same diameter, pre-drilled for threading. Then all the different types you drew, like the milkmaid, the soldier, and others can use a minimum of extras such as the soldiers pike, the milkmaids cow painted differently to change their appearance?"
"I wonder if it might be possible to change the mechanism to add movement to the cow, for instance." George suggested "or maybe have the soldier able to brandish his pike to some degree?"
"Who are these toys made for, I often wonder. My father used to say they were foolish playthings for those with more money than sense. I wonder if the rich customers ever give them as gifts to their children?" Timmy said.
"The only wealthy clients I ever heard of wouldn't give you the drippings off their nose," said George "still I mustn't knock 'em, they provide work for the likes of us but that doesn't mean we have to like them in return!"
"Have you ever met any of our customers?" Timmy asked
"No and very glad I am of it too. Our master Thomas who sits in his office all day to write bills and sign invoices, he once asked me if I would think it helpful to have some wealthy clients visit to see their stuff being made.
I told him the day that happened would be the day I gave my notice and started my own business. He never mentioned the idea again and even gave me a small bonus as if to ensure my loyalty. See, Timmy, folk who mostly deal in money don't think like us. They think everyone has a price and can be bought if necessary.
Thomas was a decent man when we first got started in business many years ago but because we were successful or lucky and thanks to your father being a shrewd trader who could find new markets, we did well and it went to Thomas' head, a bit. The other day when I was locking up after you'd left, he rode by and said 'I see you've got a new lad to help you George, good, good.' then rode away without another word."
"How did he find out?" Timmy wondered aloud
"First thing to learn about a small community like ours Timmy is that there aint no secrets, everyone finds out about everyone elses business. So don't do nothing yoi might be ashamed to own up to because it'll come to haunt you sure as eggs is eggs."
"Unless they hatch in which case they're baby birds!"
Message Thread
« Back to index