'I undoubtedly was made to feel,' said the inventor, 'as if I had
committed an offence. In dancing attendance at the various offices, I
was always treated, more or less, as if it was a very bad offence. I
have frequently found it necessary to reflect, for my own self-support,
that I really had not done anything to bring myself into the Newgate
Calendar, but only wanted to effect a great saving and a great
improvement.' 'There!' said Mr Meagles. 'Judge whether I exaggerate. Now you'll be
able to believe me when I tell you the rest of the case.'
With this prelude, Mr Meagles went through the narrative; the
established narrative, which has become tiresome; the matter-of-course
narrative which we all know by heart. How, after interminable attendance
and correspondence, after infinite impertinences, ignorances, and
insults, my lords made a Minute, number three thousand four hundred
and seventy-two, allowing the culprit to make certain trials of his
invention at his own expense.
How the trials were made in the presence of a board of six, of whom two
ancient members were too blind to see it, two other ancient members were
too deaf to hear it, one other ancient member was too lame to get near
it, and the final ancient member was too pig-headed to look at it. How
there were more years; more impertinences, ignorances, and insults. How
my lords then made a Minute, number five thousand one hundred and three,
whereby they resigned the business to the Circumlocution Office. How the
Circumlocution Office, in course of time, took up the business as if
it were a bran new thing of yesterday, which had never been heard of
before; muddled the business, addled the business, tossed the business
in a wet blanket. How the impertinences, ignorances, and insults went
through the multiplication table. How there was a reference of the
invention to three Barnacles and a Stiltstalking, who knew nothing about
it; into whose heads nothing could be hammered about it; who got bored
about it, and reported physical impossibilities about it. How the
Circumlocution Office, in a Minute, number eight thousand seven hundred
and forty, 'saw no reason to reverse the decision at which my lords had
arrived.'
How the Circumlocution Office, being reminded that my lords
had arrived at no decision, shelved the business. How there had been
a final interview with the head of the Circumlocution Office that very
morning, and how the Brazen Head had spoken, and had been, upon the
whole, and under all the circumstances, and looking at it from the
various points of view, of opinion that one of two courses was to be
pursued in respect of the business: that was to say, either to leave it
alone for evermore, or to begin it all over again.