AUNT MERCY.
"Good evening, Aunty."
"Good evening, Edmund Burton."
Aunt Mercy was sipping a cup of tea, and reading the evening paper.
"What's the news, Aunty?"
"Another railroad accident, of course."
"Nobody hurt, I hope?"
"Yes; a great many. I wonder that anybody's foolhardy enough to ride on
the railroads."
"How did it happen?" said Ned, beginning to think it was a poor time to
get money for a railroad invention.
"Train ran off the track," said Aunt Mercy, "and ran right down an
embankment. Seems to me they always do. I don't see why they have so
many embankments."
"They ought not to," said Ned. "If they only knew it, there's a way to
make a railroad without any track, or any wheels to run off the track,
or any embankment to run down if they did run off."
"You don't say so, Edmund Burton! What sort of a railroad would that
be?"
"I happen to have the plan of one with me," said Ned.
"Edmund Burton! What _do_ you mean?"
"I mean this," said Ned, pulling from his pocket the little frame with
a rubber string stretched on it. "It's a new invention; hasn't been
patented yet."
"Edmund Burton!" was all his aunt could say.
"I'll explain it to you, Aunty," said Ned, as he picked up the
newspaper which she had dropped, and rolled it into a tube.
"This," said he, "represents a tunnel, a big round hole, you know, as
big as this room, bored along in the ground. It goes right through
rocks and everything, and is perfectly straight. No dangerous curves.
And this"--showing the frame and then passing it into the paper
tube--"represents an India-rubber cable as large as a stove-pipe. It is
stretched out as far as possible, and fastened tight to posts at the
ends."
"Edmund Burton!"
"Now, Aunty, we'll call this end Albany, and this end Buffalo."
"Edmund Burton!"
"All the men and boys in Albany that want to go to Buffalo could come
down to the depot, and get on the cable right there, sitting just as if
they were on horseback, and there will be nice little straps for them
to hold on by."
"Edmund Burton!"
"When everybody's ready, the train-despatcher just picks up a sharp
axe, and with one blow cuts the cable in two, right here, and zip! the
passengers find themselves in Buffalo. No boiler to burst, no track to
get off from, no embankment to plunge down, no wheels to get out of
order."
"Edmund Burton, you _are_ a genius! But ladies can't ride that way."
"Of course not," said Ned, catching an idea. "We have a car for the
ladies. This"--and he picked up a spool of thread and a lead pencil,
and passed the pencil through the spool--"represents it. The pencil
represents the cable, and the spool represents the car, which is
fastened tight on the cable. When the ladies are all in, it is locked
up, and then the cable is cut behind it."
"Edmund Burton!"
"And the great advantage of it is, that the car is perfectly round, and
so whichever way it might happen to turn, it would always be right side
up, for every side is the right side!"
"Edmund Burton, you _are_ a genius!"
"But you mustn't tell anybody about it, Aunty, for it hasn't been
patented yet."
"Why don't you patent it, Edmund Burton?"
"We think of doing so, Aunty, but it will cost more money than we have
just now. The first thing is to get up a model."
"What's that, Edmund Burton?"
"A little one, with tunnel and everything complete, to show how it
works. That has to go to the Patent-Office and be put in a glass case."
"And how much will it cost to make a muddle, Edmund Burton?"
"Fay says he thinks one _could_ be made for ten dollars; but I suppose
more money would build a better one."
"Your brother knows nothing about it, Edmund Burton. _He_ would get up
a miserable cheap muddle, and disgrace the family. Don't let him have
anything to do with it. Jane!"--calling to the servant--"bring me my
pocket-book from the right-hand corner of my top bureau drawer."
Jane brought it.
"How much will it take for a good muddle, Edmund Burton?" said his Aunt
Mercy, as she opened her pocket-book.
"I should think fifteen dollars ought to be a great plenty," said Ned,
and she handed him a crisp new ten-dollar bill and a five.
"Thank you, Aunty."
"You're welcome, child. Always come to me when you want money to make a
muddle. But mind what I tell you, Edmund Burton. Don't let that
numskull brother of yours have anything to do with it, and be sure you
get up a handsome muddle that will do credit to the family."
"Yes, Aunty. Good-night!"
"Good-night! But come and kiss me before you go, Edmund Burton."
* * * * *
"Don't you think," said Ned, as we were walking home, "before Fay goes
any further with this invention, and spends money on it, he'd better
talk with somebody who knows more about such things than we do?"
I didn't quite know whether Ned said this because he was really anxious
about the fate of the invention, or because he did not like to part
with the money, now that he actually had it. Some people are always
ready to say that they would lend money to a friend, if they had it;
but when they feel it in their hands, they are not in such a hurry to
let it go out. However, I thought this was a good idea, whatever might
be Ned's reason for suggesting it; so I said, "Certainly, he ought! Who
do you think would be the best person for him to talk with?"
"I don't know anybody better than Jack-in-the-Box," said Ned. "Of
course he knows all about railroads."
"Of course he does," said I, "and he'll be glad to help us.
Jack-in-the-Box is the very one!"