Bright Ideas: A Record of Invention and Misinvention — Story, Setting & Ideas

lowing the smoke down along. Now, all together."

The windings of the road, and the hedges on each side, prevented them from getting a clear view of this singular phenomenon. All that they were aware of was a dense cloud of black smoke approaching them very rapidly. They had just restarted the manual engine when, round the bend just ahead, the tricycle shot into view with a huge trail of smoke behind it.

"Sakes alive!" gasped the smith.

The children yelled, and fled down the road. The men, after an instant’s dismayed irresolution, scattered up the banks into the hedges, leaving the engine standing half across the road. Noakes, on whose face a dark flush had gathered as he recognised Eves, backed into a hazel and flourished his fists.

Templeton, who was steering, tried to turn the machine into the hedge before it reached the manual. But he was a shade too late; the off wheel fouled the engine; the tricycle spun round; its riders were flung into the hedge, and the trays, parting company with the tank as it overturned, were distributed in several directions, bestowing a good portion of their noisome contents impartially among the members of the fire brigade.

The inventors picked themselves up, rubbed their elbows, and approached the discomfited villagers, who, coughing and spluttering, were now descending into the road. Templeton looked serious; Eves wore a broad grin.

"Really, I’m extremely sorry," began the former.

"Sorry be jowned!" shouted the baker. "Sorry won’t clean my hands, and my dough a-spoiling."

"’Tis rank pison!" cried the butcher.

"Assault and battery and attempted murder," shrieked Noakes, furiously. "Wi’ my own firelighters!"

"Let us discuss it calmly," said Templeton. "No one can regret more than I the—the inconvenience to which you have been put, quite without intention, I assure you——"

"But the fact is," Eves interposed, pointing to the manual, "you were on the wrong side of the road. Constable, I appeal to you."

The constable, who had left his fire helmet in the hedge, scratched his head, the villagers looking at him expectantly.

"Well, neighbours all," he said, slowly, "the law’s what it is, and I’m not the man, being sworn in my office of constable—’t ud be high treason or worse to gainsay it. And I don’t care who the man is, that there manual be on the right when the law says it oughter be on the left, and no true man can deny it."

"That’s for horses and carts, for horses and carts," fumed Noakes.

"As a man I respect you, neighbour Noakes," said the constable, solemnly, "but as a officer of the law I say you don’t know nothing about it. The manual’s a vehicle; well, then, the law’s no respecter of persons, and what be law for a horse and cart be law for a manual; ay sure, for a baby’s pram, if so be a pram was in custody."

"That’s all very well," said the baker, "but what’s the law say about foul smoke? Tell us that, constable."

"Foul smoke be from factory chimneys; t’other smoke bain’t foul."

"Of course not," said Eves. "You’ve got the law at your finger-ends, constable. The penalty for being on the wrong side is a heavy fine, isn’t it?"

"That depends on whether ’tis Squire Banks or Sir Timothy on the bench, sir."

"Well, my friend won’t prosecute, I’m sure. And when I tell you he was trying a new invention for beating the Germans, you’ll be sorry you’ve ruined it through being on the wrong side of the road."

"Wish we’d knowed that afore, sir," said the smith. "The truth on’t is, we thought ’twas Farmer Trenchard’s ricks afire."

"And like true Britons you rushed to help your neighbour. Splendid! I’ll tell Mr. Trenchard how promptly the brigade turned out; he’s very lucky in having such good friends."

"Speaking for us all, sir——" began the smith.

"Not for me," Noakes interrupted, savagely.

"Hear what the man hev got to say, neighbour Noakes," said the baker. "Mebbe I won’t agree with him myself, but I’m not the man to say so afore he’s hawked it out."

"Speaking for us all," the smith went on, "I’m certain sure there’s not a man of us but hopes the gen’lman’s invention bain’t ruined out and out. Anything as will beat the Germans hev our hearty good wishes, eh, souls?"

"Hear, hear!" cried the butcher.