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Updated: May 26, 2025
Overholt gave him the almost unpronounceable name of some recently discovered substance, and smiled at his expression as he listened. "If that's its name," said the boy gravely, "it sounds like the way it smells. I wonder what a skunk's name is in science. But the flour paste's pretty bad too. You'll see!"
The Motor was a very expensive affair, and had to be carefully protected from dust and all injury, though it was worth nothing at present except for old brass and iron, unless the new part could be made. "Come, my boy, let's think of something more cheerful!" Overholt said, making an effort to rouse himself and concentrated his attention on the paper model.
It was entirely made of bits of cardboard, chips of wood, the sides of match-boxes, and odds and ends of all sorts, which he picked up wherever he saw them and brought home in his pocket for his purpose. He had an immense supply of such stuff stored away, much more than he could ever use. Overholt looked at it with admiration, but said nothing.
Let's talk about Christmas." "No. I want to see what you have made. Where is it? I'll go with you." Newton laughed. "I'll bring it, if you really want me to. It's easy enough to carry. The whole thing's only paper!" He left the workshop and returned before Overholt had finished cutting the thread of the screw he was making.
In due time the two got home again; the Motor was still working to perfection, as if nothing could ever stop it again, and Overholt oiled the bearings carefully, passed a leather over the fixed parts, and examined the whole machine minutely before sitting down to the feast, while Newton stood beside him, looking on and hoping that he would not be long.
Pastergood, I wanted mine my own and John's! Oh, I reckon it was idolatry the way I felt in my heart; I thought, to have a little trick-bone o' my bone, flesh o' my flesh look up at me with John's eyes " A sob choked her utterance, and never again was it resumed. In the years that followed, the pair already come to be called Pap Overholt and Aunt Cornely well fulfilled the old doctor's prophecy.
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.
For it was inhabited now, and though the men and women did not move about, they looked as if they might, if they were only bigger. Overholt had seen the population in the window of a German toy-shop one day when he was in New York to get a new crocusing wheel for polishing some of the small parts of the engine.
There's something wrong with my head." "You want to see a doctor," said the boy. "I'll go and see if I can get one of them to come out here." He rose as if to go at once. "No! Don't!" cried Overholt, much distressed by the mere suggestion. "He could only tell me to rest, and take exercise and sleep at night and not worry!" He laughed rather wildly. "He would tell me not to worry!
Newton was possessed by that idea. When Overholt had been alone for some time, he got up from the horsehair sofa and crept up the stairs, leaning on the shaky bannister like an old man. In his own room he plunged his face into icy cold water again and again, as if it were burning, and the sharp chill revived his nerves a little.
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