Dr. Sneedlewhig and the Curious Machine
I have been maintaining this, the profile of my friend Mr. Damian Walker, for quite some time now. Many people have sent messages asking about this or that, but recently I have been asked the same thing by a number of people. “Dr. Sneedlewhig,” they say, “how do you manage to maintain Damian’s profile when you dislike computers so?” As always, I am happy to satisfy the readers' curiosity.Some time ago a card was delivered to me. Written upon it was this message: “Lady Hermione Muerns-Plarksnotting shall take High Tea at six o’clock, and would appreciate the Company of Dr. Elias Sneedlewhig at said Repast.” Lady Muerns-Plarksnotting is a lady of fashion, and such invitations do not occur every day, so I was anxious to attend Her Ladyship and enjoy the pleasure of her company.
Tea with Her Ladyship started promptly and, as always, conversation touched on a number of subjects. At one point she remarked, “I hear that Mr. Babbage’s computing engines are come into fashion once again.” “Indeed,” I replied, “would that the had lived to see the success of his enterprise.” Her Ladyship daintily took a sip of darjeeling from her cup, and said, “I would fain acquire one of these curious machines for the parlour.”
Knowing the great expense of these devices, and Her Ladyship’s tendency to entertain such enthusiasms only briefly, I was loathe to encourage her in this design. These computing machines are merely a passing fad, and Her Ladyship has already had to find attic space for a redundant rotating cheese-printing press, a two-in-one water sprinkler and biscuit-barrel, and of course the self-propelled steam commode, all of which tickled her fancy for mere days before being removed from view. But then, who am I to judge the follies of others, when I have no follies of my own? “Excellent, then,” I said to Her Ladyship, “I know just the person to build you such a thing!”
I refer of course to my friend Damian. Both at work and at home he has spent much time tinkering with these strange contraptions. I try to tell him that one who aspires to classical learning should not waste time in the base and mean mechanical arts, but I am sure he fancies himself a Babbage or a Brunel, and listens to little of what I say. He currently has more than a dozen of the things laying about his house, most of them doing nothing, so I expected he could spare one for Lady Muerns-Plarksnotting, at least until she tired of it.
“What does that mad old bat want with a computer?” he asked, when I told him of Her Ladyship’s desire. “Never mind that,” I replied, ignoring his rudeness, “you get started on the machine while I go and make us some tea.” This he duly did, and I had the impression that the task caused him some difficulty. I will not repeat some of the language I heard, as I understand that this text may now be read by ladies. Suffice to say that after much exertion, accompanied by banging and exclamations, the machine was complete. And mightily unimpressive it was, being simply a beige box with little indication of useful function.
I was disinclined to mention my concerns to Mr. Walker after the amount of time and effort he had spent in constructing this modern wonder. Knowing him as I do, I thought he would take very ill the seeming in gratitude and the question upon his skill as a craftsman in this particular area of engineering. While his current interests become ever more refined, he does have a good amount of experience upon which to draw. So I kept my peace, and put my trust in his abilities.
Due to Mr. Walker’s unwarranted prejudice against her Ladyship, to which I have already alluded, he left it to me to deliver the machine. “She does have electricity, doesn’t she?” he asked. “What a question, of course she does,” I responded, “Her Ladyship keeps up with all the latest fashions, and I understand that there are now Power Stations enough to supply this dangerous commodity to all parts of the empire.”
Fin
Last modified: Thursday, June 25th, 2026 at 11:37pm
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