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Updated: May 14, 2025
My boyhood recollections include the following episode: Mother once sent me to a tinker's shop to have our drinking-cup repaired. It was a plain tin affair and must have cost, when new, something like four or five cents. It had done service as long as I could remember. It was quite rusty, and finally sprang a leak. And so I took it to the tinker, or tinsmith, who soldered it up.
I go faster and faster, as if it is a case of fetching something, and stand after a little time in my tinker's workshop. Without pausing a moment, or wavering in my resolution, I go over to the bed, and roll up Hans Pauli's blanket. It was a strange thing if this bright idea of mine couldn't save me.
"We would n't have been a tinker's damn the richer if we had," snarled one of the unwilling conscripts. "I'd rather have a pound of hay than the same weight in cursed state money, for you can feed the hay to a hoss, but I'm consarned if t' other 's good for anythin'." "Say, cap," asked a second, "has you ralely got them saddle-bags o' yourn filled with the stuff?" "Ay.
And the tinker's smile won. Bit by bit Patsy's rigid attitude of condemnation relaxed; the comradeship crept back in her eyes, the smile to her lips. "Heigho! 'Tis a bad bargain ye can't make the best of. But mind one thing, Master Touchstone! Ye'll find the right road to Arden this time or ye and the duke's daughter will part company for all Willie Shakespeare wrote it otherwise." He nodded.
Why, he speaks as soft as a woman.... I wouldn't want him to ask me to do anything I was set against if I didn't want to do it." "Rotten rubbish!" spat out Burnett. "I don't give a tinker's damn about his voice. It's up to me to run the dwarf to earth, and I'm goin' to do it." After a very long silence, Todd turned to Burnett.
Now whether the Tinker's theory for the writing of a good novel be right or wrong, I will not presume to say.
"I don't give a tinker's hang what Thirkle says!" cried Buckrow, throwing down his end of the sack. "I'm here to say gold will rust if it's kept wet, and that's an end of it. Gold do rust, Thirkle or no Thirkle, and I say it." "All right," agreed Reddy. "Lay on, Bucky, and let's get this job over and done with!" "White-livered little fool!" I heard Thirkle mutter. "He doesn't dare do it!"
"This is a great thought that the soul may not perish!" said I, staring into the Tinker's earnest face. "Ah, young sir, where does the soul come from where does it go to? Look yonder!" said he, pointing upwards with his hammer where stars twinkled down upon us through the leaves.
Out of the tinker's bag he had drawn a translation of Condorcet's "Progress of Man" and another of Rousseau's "Social Contract."
The young clergywoman had no children, on which score she fretted herself; and must have fretted hard, before she begged the poor tinker's child out of the woods." "What did Tinker George say?" asked the girl. "He used a good deal of bad language, and said I might as easily have got twenty pounds as ten, if I had not been as big a fool as the child's mother herself.
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