The Iron Boys by Thomas Frick

Author:Thomas Frick
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-936050-41-6
Publisher: Burning Books
Published: 2012-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

It be like that an folk dont say a word. Just do as theys told. You burp an fart at the same time they fine you.

Any counting his hours before pay master — one shilling

Any wave out the window at anything or nothing — six pence

Who can remember em all. An they dont enforce em except when they do so who knows. But ever one was gay impatient to see that clock start up. Maggie Moats think now she get Barley home sooner. Though I know old Barley Moats. He gonna see things crooked from wherever he sit. Maggie say seven he say eleven. In his mind he gonna bend them brass hands like tin flanges. An your popish numbers dont help none. As it is Barleyll puff his self up pointin at the dial an crow out Ix. Ix. Vi. Vi. Bend your knee an elbow to the new Sumerian gods. Aint no clock handll point that man home sooner or soberer. Old Barley he only shave his self about the lip so he dont waste no dribbles from the bottle.

So when them hands come in on a long wagon hitched behind the mail coach Withy stand over while his boys pry the lids off the crates. Theys shined to gleamin an almost delicate in tracery despite the size. Big enough to say whichever way they point its the right way. Curls an fleurs cut in em like kings mischief. More like arms than hands is what I think. Little one I could just about stretch arm pit to finger tip. Big one might be a foot longer. Or fancy dubbin swords they could be. For the Christmas play. More like that than hands any road. So Withy need some help that day to collar an bolt them things in place while he an his boys is pointin em the right way on the outside wall. Man from Mechanick Arts stand there with his instruments to tell em when the hour need to strike. Im always inclined to add some silver to my pouch whatever come my way except signin on for shifts. So I go up top an monkey shamble through the works in there. Its clankin mechanism more than soft machine. Gears an wheels an rods an levers an more smaller gears. Ropes an weights an chains an even smaller gears if you look for em. Spinners an handles an scapements an all of it nestled in a iron frame eight feet high. Perched up top is four bell domes bout the size a Child Town helmets an four swing hammers hangin there to tap em for the hours. Upright turnin pole an gear at one corner connects with the overhead shaft that run the length to the steam house. Everthing connected. You wonder how it is that any one can think a all that. Hard to fathom all this widgetry to move two clock hands round.

Withy an his boys is up the ladders on the other side a the wall.

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