The Little City of Hope | Page 9

the
unpronounceable chemical on which the Air-Motor was to depend for
its existence.
The light outside was failing in the murky November air, and Overholt
lit the big reflecting lamp that hung over the work-table. There was
another above the lathe, for no gas or electricity was to be had so far
from the town, and one of old Barbara's standing causes of complaint
against Overholt was his reckless use of kerosene--she thought it would
be better if he had more fat turkeys and rump-steaks and less light.
So the man and the boy "went to work to play" at building the City of
Hope, for at least an hour before supper and half an hour after it, almost
every day; and with the boy's marvellous memory and the father's skill,
and the delicious profusion of fresh material which Newton kept

finding in every corner of the workshop, it grew steadily, till it was a
little work of art in its way. There were the ups and downs, the crooked
old roads and lanes and the straight new streets, the little wooden
cottages and the big brick houses, and there was the grassy common
with its trees and its tiny iron railing; and John Henry easily made posts
to carry the trolley wires, which had seemed an impossible dream to the
boy, beyond all realisation; and one day, when the inventor seemed
farther from the tangent-balance than ever, he spent a whole afternoon
in making a dozen little trolley-cars that ran on real wheels, made by
sawing off little sections from a lead pencil, which is the best thing in
the world for that, because the lead comes out and leaves nice round
holes for the axles. When the first car was painted red and yellow and
ran up and down Main Street, guided by the wire above and only
needing one little artificial push to send it either way, it looked so real
that the boy was in ecstasies of delight.
"It's worth while to be a great inventor to be able to make things like
that!" he cried, and Overholt was as much pleased by the praise as an
opera singer is who is called out three times before the curtain after the
first act.
So the little City of Hope grew, and they both felt that Hope herself
was soon coming to dwell therein, if she had not come already.

III
HOW THEY MADE BRICKS WITHOUT STRAW
But then something happened; for Overholt was tormented by the
vague consciousness of a coming idea, so that he had headaches and
could not sleep at night. It flashed upon him at last one evening when
Newton was in bed and he was sitting before his motor, wishing he had
the thousand dollars which would surely complete it, even if he used
the most expensive materials in the market.
The idea which developed suddenly in all its clearness was that he had
made one of the most important parts of the machine exactly the
converse of what it should be; what was on the right should have been
on the left, and what was down should certainly have been up. Then the
engine would work, even if the tangent-balance were a very poor affair
indeed.
The particular piece of brass casting which was the foundation of that

part had been made in New York, and, owing to the necessity for its
being finished very accurately and machine planed and turned, it had
cost a great deal of money. Already it had been made and spoilt three
times over, and now it was perfectly clear that it must be cast over
again in a reversed form. It was quite useless to make the balance yet,
for it would be of no use till the right casting was finished; it would
have to be reversed too, and the tangent would apply to a reversed
curve.
He had no money for the casting, but even before trying to raise the
cash it was necessary to make the wooden model. He could do that, and
he set to work to sketch the drawing within five minutes after the idea
had once flashed upon him. As his eye followed the lines made by his
pencil, he became more and more convinced that he was right. When
the rough sketch was done he looked up at the engine. Its familiar
features seemed to be drawn into a diabolical grimace of contempt at
his stupidity, and it looked as if it were conscious and wanted to throw
the wrongly-made piece at his head. But he was overwrought just then
and could have fancied any folly.
He rose, shook himself, and then took a long pull at a black bottle that
always stood on a shelf. When a man