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Updated: May 21, 2025
And yet life goes on with all this maladjustment of its cams and cogs and levers much as in its ordinary routine. There never were more joyous dahlias and phlox and china asters than we saw coming back from that training camp where men were learning the big death game. And when we came to Paris the real business of war seemed remote. Of course, Paris is affected by the war.
One of the cogs had become displaced. It did not take him five minutes, with the tools he carried on his motor-cycle, to put it back, and the churn was ready to use. "Well, I declare!" exclaimed Mrs. Blackford. "You are handy at such things!" "Oh, it's just a knack," replied Tom modestly. "Now I'll put a plug in there, and the cog wheel won't come loose again.
Women are doing men's work, getting men's pay, making themselves useful and necessary cogs in the productive machine. They will neither quit nor lose their cunning when peace comes.
Ann's mind seemed to struggle up from some profound depth where it had lain quiescent and feebly and disjointedly signalled the words: "Ceiling ... wall ... window...." And finally, with an immense effort, "Room." After that the cogs of her mental machinery began to move in a more normal manner, though still slowly and confusedly.
The whole body of this discipline is emphatically a system of cruel cogs and wheels, systematically grinding up in one common hopper all that might minister to the moral well-being of the crew. It is the same with both officers and men.
Vaniman obeyed his impulse; he went to the door and knocked. He had always found Usial Britt in a sociable mood. "Who is it?" inquired the shoemaker. "Vaniman of the bank." "Leave your job, whatever it is, on the threshold, sir." "I am not bringing you any work, Mr. Britt." "Then kindly pass on; I'm in executive session, sir." The grumble of the cogs and the squeak of the press went on.
I shoved my fingers in on that side. The big, toothed cogs on the rollers did not touch my fingers. And yet, suddenly, they did. With the grip of ten thousand devils, my finger-tips were caught, drawn in, and pulped to well, just pulp. And, like a slick of cane, I had started on my way. There was no stopping me. Ten thousand horses could not have pulled me back. There was nothing to stop me.
That does not express the sounds uttered by Dave, for they were more like an accident in a wooden clock, when the wheels run down and finish with a jerk which breaks the cogs. But that was Dave's way of laughing, and it ended with a horrible distortion of his features. "I say: don't, Dave. What an old nut-cracker you are! You laugh like the old watchman's rattle in the garret. Be quiet, Tom!"
So one by one they wormed their way out to fix the ignition, adjust the carburetor, or hack free the cogs which moved the tracks. And one by one their radios became silent and were not heard again. The captain went from cockiness to doubt, from doubt to anxiety, and then to anguished fury.
They have substituted for their reinforced concrete Unbelief, a kind of Whirling Unbelief, called machinery. They admit that in our modern life men are not made of reinforced concrete. We may move, but we move as wheels move, they tell us. We arc whirlingly imbedded. We are cogs and wheels in an Economic Machine. I would like to consider for a moment this Whirling Unbelief.
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