Out and Home. Not by " The Extractor," Before I
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went for my holidays, I thoughtlessly went down to South Kensington to look a t t Ii e World's Travel Exhibition. I was armed with variously-coloured Press tickets, a Bradshaw, a suit of pyjamas and a tooth brush, and fortified by the fact that the paper with the largest circulation in the world had said that the show was " quite good." I am afraid, however, I must be becoming somewhat blase in the matter of exhibitions. After wandering aimlessly about for an hour, during which period I was hit twice in the, anatomy by model working aeroplanes and barely managed to escape from a prepossessing married lady who was most anxious to sell me an eightguinea kite, I espied, with thankfulIleNS, Fastnut's stand. In the midst of a heterogeneous collection of stuffed deer, lager beer, railway posters,waterproof coats and patent foods, I welcomed the appearance of that Fastnut stand, and was—once more—initiated into the art of " doing up '' and " undoing " the " Fastnut" washer, as well as its younger brother, the Setfast " device for setscrews. Truly, the enterprise of Fastnut, Ltd., is astounding. Wherever there is a chance
nuts coining loose, there will the Fastnut demonstrators be found. They should have a permanent exhibition at Pentonville, and Pierpoint should be made an agent. TVtere the Nuts Go.
Once a week, as a rule, stern neceseity sends me to the Patent Office, there to scramble British Horne for through innumerable incurable specifications in order Itmentors. to select a, few which appear to possess some interest to " C.M.'' readers. The Patent Office, for some reason or another, always depresses me intolerably. From close observation of the denizens of this home for incurable inventors, I have come to the conclusion that it has an equally-depressing
influence upon them. No one ever smiles there—except the representative of the " C.M." The old gentleman, who, for countless years, has collected umbrellas—but not walking sticks—at the portals, has gradually settled into a permanent state of melancholia.. Many of the visitors are incurable inventors: people who may be detected at once by their eccentric dress and faraway-looking eyes. A large proportion of this interesting species spends its lifetime inventing patent fastenings for bodices, patent fastenings for bottles, or complicated apparatia for the doing of things that are no good when they are done! The evolution of these res wirablice apparently requires endless pilgrimages to the building at the back of Chancery Lane, in order to consult the vast array of treatises on every subject under
the sun, which collection is carefully shelved there. The inventors of reallyuseful things one seldom sees about; whilst, for some unknown reason, one cannot recognize the inventors of the sex-diviner for eggs, of the appliance for maintaining a naked flame under water, or the man who contrives a new sock-suspender every fortnight. Just now, of course, innumerable flyingonachine specifications are being lodged; a little while back, the files were crammed with non-skid devices and detachable wheels; before these, countless schemes for change-speed gears and carburetting devices were submitted. During the past few months, there has been an epidemic of new wrenches and locknuts. Why is it that almost all the non-skid devices, for which patents are requested, are schemed by commercial travellers, chemists, or confectioners? I flatter myself that it requires a clear head to spend a morning "selecting " at the Patent Office. The authorities should provide wet towels for visitors' beads, with a supply of cooling drinks, and something with boiling oil in it for the officials—just to cause them to smile, say, at least once a month !
The pleasure-motor-vehicle business suffered, at one time, a surfeit of per sonal assistance from incompetence in a number of men who the _Motor Trade. had no other re
commendations than that their relations had money, that they themselves were blessed with an incredible amount of that eminentlymarketable commodity, known to the initiated, I am told, as "swank," and that they had once owned motorbicycles. Some years ago, such men were plentiful in the sales and executive branches of the pleasure-car side of the business. [For fear of misapprehension. I hasten to state that I, personally, was only one of those neglected individuals who did -the designing.] Most of the.se useless officials soon acquired sufficient " rope " uncomfortably to entangle themselves, to the great. benefit of everybody. Although, for the past feeyears, I have had little to do with pleasure ears, I believe that the average ability of the personnel on that side of the business is, nowadays, very much higher. on account of the process of elimination that has automatically taken place. It would seem, at first, glance, that no man, who was quite useless, so far as abilities or qualifieations were concerned, could live, for inure than a few weeks, the harrowing existence of a responsible official of e large commercial-vehicle. undertaking. Nevertheless, a few such individuals, in the early days of the bus boom some years aim, actually secured highly-responeible positions, as well as highly-satisfactory " screws."
A driver was standing by waiting to have his vehicle inspected by the
foreman, when our Looking for the friend The EngiDefferentfat Gear. user strolled . up and casually asked the cause of the vehicle's being ". off service." He proceeded : " -What's the matter, sonny ? Why aren't you out on the road F. " The driver knew. "Differential gone wrong I think, Sir," he politely replied. " Nothing of the sort ; open the bonnet, and let's have a look," was the academic retort of The Engineer.
A motorbus, of a normal four-cylinder type, was waiting to leave the yard, when our friend The Blades of The Engineer strol a Fan, led round I o o k
ing for anything that might happen, and he found it in a very short while. " Here," he called to the night foreman, who was still on duty, " who looked at this bus last night ? Look at that fan; all the blades bent round at an angle, and nobody noticed it. Find out who overlooked 'em, and report to me. Knock the lot out straight yourself at once. I don't know where you'd be, if it weren't for me! "
A large motor vehicle came into a garage yard, one day, about noon, evi dently disabled. The
A driver pulled to Clutch Yarn. the side and prepared to get assistance from the garage staff. Our friend The Engineer happened to be standing near, and he immediately challenged the driver as to his reason for coming off the road. " Burnt my leather clutch out, Sir ; come in to gel it re-leathered." A brief pause ensiled. "That be bothered for a yarn," then rapped out The Engineer ; " if you can't re-leather a clutch on the road, you're no good to me; you'd better clear out sharp."
Another day, The Engineer was strolling round looking for trouble, and he found a driver, who had brought a motorbus " off service," draining the petrol out of his tank. " What the does are you doint, cocky ?" the driver was asked. "Emptying my tank, Sir, it's leaking badly, and I want to get it sweated up," quoth the driver. " Look here, my man, let me tell you this sort of thing has got to atop. What's been good enough for others, isn't good enough for me. I'll soon pnt a stop fei this sort of waste. Turn off that cock, and go and get me a, blow lamp and a soldering iron. I'll do the job, here, myself." Fun 'with a Blow Llmp.