Mr Darwin's Gardener Read Online Free Page A

talks of him with scolding tenderness. She tells anecdotes and laughs delightedly at them, inviting me to join the chorus. I do laugh, though I do not understand children who look like small, gloomy adults. You can already read the futures of boys in their faces – bank or law firm – whereas the faces of girls shine with pure, glossy stupidity. Their mothers smeared it on.
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    Stuart Wilkes is looking into an idea that was cut short earlier; Lucy and Charles, ready for church and waiting for him to accompany them there, had interrupted his thoughts. His shoelace had snapped.
    At home, taking off my shoes, I remembered the extensible shoelaces in a flash. If new shoes were to have long laces rolled up under the tongue, then, when the shoelace wore out and snapped, you could extract a length of new lace wherever you were. You might be in a place with noshops or laces, though it is hard to imagine there would be no shop somewhere a train stops. But late at night or early in the morning, nowhere would be open; no shoelaces to be found. You might be on your way to a dinner or an early business meeting.
    I go to the workshop, which is in an outhouse next to the woodshed and the storehouse. I write down my idea. On the previous page there is a plan for an adjustable funnel. That would be useful, because bottle mouths come in different sizes.

    The funnel would have to be made of very thin, flexible tin. It would have various rows of barbs and, by fastening these barbs on to hooks, you could adjust the size of the funnel. The best material would be thin and rubber-like, in which case the barbs could be replaced with press-buttons. Such material may not exist, though. I shall ask Harry Rowe to procure both thin tin and rubber. But rubber can be hard to get hold of and is expensive. Gutta-percha is durable but rigid.
    Yesterday, Charles asked me: Who’s a great man? I said: Aristotle, Copernicus, Shakespeare. Alexander the Great,I added, for that is an answer that makes sense to a child. Is Mr Darwin a great man? Charles asked. I saw what he was getting at. Even a child knows that Mr Darwin is famous. A child does not know why, though, and nor do many adults. If Mr Darwin’s name were Eugene or Jolyon, he would not interest my son. Yes, yes, I said, and Charles ran off. Hopefully he will grow to understand that greatness comes not from quick victories but from work and effort. And it is futile to strive if you lack genius.
    I do have ideas.
    Mr Whewell believes enthusiasm is an impediment to science, but Mr Tyndall points out that that only applies to those with a weak head!
    You do not need to be a black-gowned academic at Oxford or Cambridge or the Royal Society to be able to put forward ingenious thoughts. For example, George Campbell, the Duke of Argyll, writes about the steam engine and Babbage’s calculating machine and telegraphy. However, I am particularly interested in what he writes about flying.
    Birds defy the law of gravity with every wing-beat, even big, heavy storks. A balloon is a mere toy that rises up into the air, but if not directed, it drifts at the mercy of an air current.
    I believe Campbell to be right when he states that flying machines must be moulded according to the pattern the Lord used when designing birds and bats and dragonflies.

V
    Cathy Davies puts a scarf on John. We’re going on an excursion, we’ll walk along the path across the meadow. I made the picnic, there’s milk in a bottle, sandwiches wrapped in paper.
    Thomas stands in the garden. Five wrinkled brown apples dangle from the apple tree and black cherries hang from the cherry tree. No birds in view, though; it is as if the dense, grey sky were too heavy for flying in. He takes deep breaths. In the eyes of the villagers, I am unhinged. Not a madman, like Edwin, who drools and rolls his eyes. Worse, because I have chosen my madness myself. Book-learning is madness, in their opinion, because it is not meant for