LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6831, 19 April 1890, Page 1

LITERATURE.

.JOHN BRENT; OR, A LOVE CHASE ON THE PLAINS.

[By Theodore Witheop.]

Chatter XXXI.

A DWARF.

It was with much curiosity and interest in Padiham that I stepped down into the basement, and entered his shop. I reverence as much a great mechanic, in degree, perhaps in kind, aa Ido any greatseer into the mysteries of Nature. He is a ling, whoever can wield the great forces where other men have not thepower. And none can control material forces without a profound knowledge, stated or unstated, of the great masterly laws that order every orop-anism, from dust to man and a man-

freighted world. A great mechanic ranks ■with the great chiefs of his time, prophets, poets, orators, statesmen.

Padiham was in his shop at work. No mistaking him. A stunted, iron-gray man, not misshupen, but only shut together, like a one-barrelled opera-glass.

A very impressive head was Padiham's. No harm had been done to that by whatever force had driven in his legs and shut Ms ribs together. His head was full grown. In contrast with his body, it seemed even overgrown. His hair and beard were iron-gray. He had those heavy, square eyebrows that compel the •eyes from roving, and shut them down upon the matter in hand, so that it cannot escape. Not a man, this, to err on facts or characters. A pretender person, a eham fact, he would test at once and dismiss. Short's Cut-off had never met a sterner" critic than this man with the square forehead and firm nose.

He was hard at work at a bench, low according to his stature, filing at soma fine machinery. The shop was filled -jrith a rich, sunny duakinoss. Here and there surfaces of polished brass sparkled. Sunbeams, striking through, the dim windows, glinted upon bits of bright steel strewn about. I perceived the clear pungent odour of fresh steel filings, very grateful after the musty streets, seething in. June sunshine and the exhalations of tbe noisome Thames. It -was a scene of orderly •disorder, ruled by the rnaster-workinan there. Padiham had, of course, observed ray entrance. He took no notice of me, and continued his work. I held my Btation near the door, I did not wish to spoil his job hy the jar of an interruption. Besides, I though it as well to let hiui speak first. I was prepared for an old man: ha might .make the advancer?, if he pleased. Padiham went on filing, in a grim, intelligent way. I glanced about the shop. There were models all about of .-machines, some known, some strange to /me; disconnected portions of inventions -lying side by side, and wanting only a bolt or a screw to be organized and ready •to rush at pumping, or lifting, or dragging, or busy duty of some useful kind. . There was store, too, of interesting rubbish,— •members of futile models, that could not do busy duty of their kind for some slight •error, and worth careful study as warnings; for failure with mechanics is the schoolmaster of success. Drawings of engines hung all about the walia. As guardian genius of the spot, there was a .portrait of that wise, benignant face of my friend of this morning, tbat great • engineer who had directed me hither. Apart in a dusky corner, by the chimney and forge, hung two water-colour drawings in neat gilt frames. They were perhaps a little incongruous with the scenery of the' gnome's cavern. I did not, of course, ■expect to find here a portrait of a trnaulent •bruiser or a leering barmaid. Beery journeymen keep such low art hanging before them to seduce them from any .ambition to become master hands _ and beguile them back to beer. Padiham would of course need drawings of models and machines, and enjoy them ; but I did : not look for Art proper in his shop. There, • ! however, in the dim background, hung the two cheerful drawings, in their neat frames. They renewed and repeated the feeling which the gay roses in tho upper windows had given me. My fancy supplied a link betwesn the drawings and the flowers. They infused. a pleasant •element of refinement into the work-a-day atmosphere of the shop.

One of these drawings— l could justfaintly distinguish their subject, and not the skill, greater or less, of their handling — was a view of an old brick many-gabled manor-house, on a lawn dotted •with stately oaks. Its companion— and the light hardly permitted me to decipher it— seemed to be a group of people seated on the grass, and a horse bonding over them. I glanced at these objects as my eye made the tour of the shop ; but my head was filled with Short's Cut-off and this grim dwarf before me.

Presently Padiham laid down his file, and took up a pair of pincers from the •confusion on his bench. He gave a bit of ■wire a twist, and, as he did eo looked at me. The square eyebrows seemed to hold me stiff, while he inspected. He studied my face, and then measured me from top to toe. There was a slight expression of tepellance in his features, as if ho thought, "This big fellow probably fancies that his long legs make him my master ; we'll try a xnatch."

He addressed me in a sweet, hearty voice, quite in discord with his gruff manner. No man could be a bear and roar so gently. I perceived tbe Lancashire accent. ,Tbe dialect, if it had ever been there, was worn away. Tones are older in a man than words. He can learn a new tongue ; his ' organ he hardly alters. If Nature has ordained a voice to howl, or .snarl, or yelp, or bray, it will do so now and then, stuff our mouths with pebbles as we may. Padiham's frank, amiable voice ' neutralised his surly manner, as he said . "Now then, young man, what are you staring-atf? Do yon want anything with me ? Isay so, if you do. If net, don't stand idling herei but go ■ about your business." ■'■•;■

V I want you to do a job for me." - • " Suppose I say, I don't want to do it ? " « Then I'll try to find a better man." •<Umph '• where'll you look for him?" " La the first' shop where there's one that

knows enough to give good words to a stranger." " Well ; say what yonr job is." " You're ready to do it tben ?" "I'm not ready to waste any more time in talk." " Nor I; I want some working models of a new patent Cut-off." " I won't undertake any tom-foolery." " If you can make any tom-foolery out of this, you're a cleverer man than I am." " That may not be mnch to say. I've had so many shams brought to me in the way of cut-offs that I shall not spend time on yonr3 unless it looks right at first glance." " You'll see with half an eye that this means something." " Show me your drawings ; that will settle it." I produced the working drawings. Fadiham studied them a few moments. I volunteered no explanation. Presently he looked up, and fixed me with his square eyebrows, while he examined me from head to foot again. *' Did you invent this ? " said he. " No." "Uniph! Thought not. Too tall. Who did ?" "Mr Short." "Don't Mister the man that thought out th'i3. His whole name I want, without handlea. He don't need 'em." " George Short." " George, — that's my name too. I suppose he is a Yankee. I know every man in England likely to have contrived this ; but none of them have quite head enough." " He is an American." I "Ishe a Mormon ? " ! " No." j " Are you ?" I " No. It is an odd question." " I don't know much about your country, except that you invent machines, keep slaves, blow up steamboats, and beguile off Englishmen with your d Mormonism. The Mormons have done so much harm in my country, — Lancashire that is, — that I've sworn I'd never have anything to do with any Yankee, unless I first knew he was not one of those wolves. But if you're not, and George Short is not, I '11 do your job. Now tell me precisely what you want made, for I can't spend time with you. " " I want six sets of these models at once." " I'll order the castings this evening. I have materials here for the fine parts." Can you handle tool3 ? — I mean useful tools, — files and yaws and wrenches, not pens and sand-boxes." " I'm a fair workman with your tools." "You can help me then. Come over to-morrow morning at seven. No • you're an idler, and I'll give you till eight. If you're not here by that time you'll find me busy for the day." So saying, Padiham turned off to his work. He gave ine no further attention ; but filed away grimly. I watched him a moment. What intensity and earnestness were in this man ! Like other great artists, who see form hidden within a mass of brute matter, he seemed to be urged to give himself, body and soul, to releasing the form from ita cell, to setting free the elemental spirit of order and action locked up in the stuff before him. j

His brief verdict upon my friend's invention settled ita success in mj mind. Not that I doubted before; but the man's manner was conclusive. lie pronounced the fiat of the practical world, as finally as the great engineer had done of the theoretical. I thrilled for old Short, when this Dwarf, lurking away in a by-courfc of London, accepted him as his peer. The excitement of this interview had for a time quite expelled my anxieties. Por a time I had lost sight of the two figures that haunted me, and ever vanished as I pursued. They took their place3 again as I left the shop and issued from Lamely court into the crowded, thoroughfare at hand.

I took a cab, and drove to my hotel, and so to Biddulph's. The dinner at the Baronet's shall not figure in these pages. It was my first appearance as hero.; I and my horse were historic character^ in this new circle. I was lionized by Lady Biddulph, a stately personage, inheritress of a family rustle, — a rustle as old as the Plantagenets, and grander now by the accumulations of ages. A lovely young lady, with dark hair, who blushed when I took my cue and praised Biddulph, • she also lionized me. A thoroughbred American finds English life charming, especially :if he is agreeably licmie; a scrubby American considers England a region of cold shoulder, too effete to appreciate impertinence. Lady Biddulph gave me further facts of the history or the Clitheroes. "Our dear Ellen!" she concluded. "IE she had known how much I loved her, she would have disregarded her natural .scruples," — and she glanced at her son, — "and let me befriend and protect her. It goes to my heart to see Mr Brent so worn and sad. He, too, has become very dear to us all. I have adopted him as my son as long as he pleases, and try to give him a mother's sympathy." Brent walked back with me to Smor'ey's.

" How different we are! " he said, S3 we parted. "lain all impulse; you are all steadiness."

" Suffering might throw me off my balance. Remember that I have had trial and experience, but no torture." " Torture, that is the word; and it has unmanned me like a wearing disease. Your coming makes a man of me again." " Give me a day or two for Short's Cutoff and the mechanical nineteenth century, and we will take our knight-errantry upon us again. We are dismounted cavaliers now, to be sure, — no Pumps or Fulano to help us, — but we Bhall find, I will not doubt, some other trusty aid against the demon forces."

Brent bade me good night with a revival of his old 'self . We were to meet again to-morrow. I sat down to gladden Short -with the story of my success, and wrote hard and fast to catch to-morrow's steamer.

The dwarf, I knew, would be a man after Short's own heart, — these men of iron and steel are full of magnetism for each other. I gave Short s. minute description of Padiham's shop. As I described, I found that my observation had been much keener than I supposed. Every object in the shop came back to me distinctly. I saw the Rembrandt interior, barred with warm sunbeams; tbe grim -mater standing there over hia vice; the glinting steel; the polished brasß; the intellect tools, ready to spring up' and do their duty in the craftsman's hands; that little pretty plaything of a steam-engine, at rest, but with its pocketpiece of an oscillating cylinder hanging alert, so that it could swing off merrily at a moment's notice, and its piston with a firm grip on the crank, equally eager to skip up and down in the cylinder on its elastic cushion of steam.

(To be continued.)