The boy is an inventor already. I shall have one of those cards attached to the door of my private office at once. I tell you, Belinda, our son will be a great man one of these days." Mr. Joslyn strutted up and down the hall, almost bursting with the pride he took in his young son.
Mrs. Joslyn sighed. She knew protests were useless so long as her husband encouraged the boy. It was better at this point to simply be strong and say nothing more.
Rob also knew his mother's protests would be of no use. He continued to delight in electrical processes of all sorts. And he was more than happy to use the house as an experimental station to test the powers of his productions.
It was in his own room, however -- his "workshop" -- that he especially delighted. For not only was it the center of all his numerous "lines" throughout the house, but inside that place he had rigged up a wonderful array of devices for his own amusement. A trolley car moved around a circular track and stopped regularly at all stations. An engine and train of cars moved jerkily up and down a steep grade and through a tunnel. A windmill busily pumped water from the dishpan into the copper skillet. A sawmill operated with full steam. And a host of mechanical blacksmiths, carpenters, wood-choppers, and other workmen were connected with a motor which kept them working away at their trades in awkward but unstoppable fashion.
The room was crossed and recrossed with wires. They crept up the walls, lined the floor, made a mesh of the ceiling, and would catch an unwary visitor under the chin or above the ankle just when he least expected it. Yet visitors were forbidden in so crowded a room. Even Rob's father refused to go farther than the doorway. As for Rob, he thought he knew all about the wires, and what each one was for. But sometimes they puzzled even him. And he often wondered how to work them all.
One day he locked himself in his room to avoid interruption. He was planning the electrical lighting of a gorgeous pasteboard palace. But he really became confused over the network of wires. He had a "switchboard," to be sure, where he could make and break connections as he chose. Somehow, though, the wires had become mixed, and he could not tell which combinations to use to throw the power on to his miniature electric lights.
So he experimented in a rather haphazard way. He blindly connected this wire and that, hoping that in his guesswork he would strike the right combination.
