((Hello! This is just a note to say that the plums you were probably saving...wait no...I mean: Boris, I'm sure you're beautiful on the inside, but Star dislikes you so soundly she probably wouldn't take the effort to cross the street and tell you your head was on fire, little less put it out. The typist, on the other hand, thinks you're the most fun she's met in months. IE: Don't take offense if you read this entry...))
Journal,
What a day!
I spent another restless morning at Footman Industries awaiting Mr. Footman’s return. I’m afraid I might have gone out of the building again, if only because I saw that bird…
A big black thing, a crow I think, but it could be a raven, I never could tell the difference. Yesterday I had thrown out some crumbs to it, so I expect it expected more today, and really, the day was so lovely I could hardly resist going outside, and it’s not like I was going to go far.
Anyway, I grabbed some heels of bread and went outside to feed them to the crow (The crow should have a name…shall we call him fluffy or Snuggles? Snuggles I think…) and was trying to tempt it closer and closer and beginning to fantasize about how nice it might be to own a bird when Mr. Footman returned and frightened the thing off. He chastised me for having left the building and then took me to the laboratory for an examination where I was given a mostly clear bill of health.
Just a few of the tests seemed a bit off…but nothing to worry about. Probably just this cold I’ve caught.
So, at last I was allowed to return home. Of course on the way home I saw the posters: 500 for a crow or raven caught alive. So, I immediately abandoned my dreams of having Snuggles the Crow as a pet and instead decided Snuggles would be in much better hands if turned over to the mayor for the bounty.
As soon as I was home I fetched one of my empty trunks from the attic and carried it to the yard behind the house. I also fetched the last of the remotely-edible cookies from the jar. So few of my cookies survive my culinary skills that it is a bit of a waste…however, all for the good cause. I pushed the lid of the box open and tied a long piece of thread to it, then scattered cookies about in front of it and inside of it and stood back to admire my cunning trap.
Almost immediately sparrows and tits from all over the city were gathering. They were a merry lot to watch and making such noise squabbling over the cookies that they must have attracted Mr. Lionheart because he approached me asking what I was planning on doing. As I showed him my string and started to explain my cunning plan Snuggles landed and scattered all the other birds and started hunting around the yard.
I cooed to Snuggles and scattered some crumbs to get him moving in the right direction (he was prodding at the milk bowl I keep on the back porch for, among other things, the neighborhood cats). He pecked around happily, greedily snatching up crumbs and whole cookies until he became so engrossed in what he was doing that he hopped in the box to get the last of them.
It is so nice to know that someone in this town likes my cooking.
As soon as Snuggles was in the box I yanked the thread to slam the lid shut and ran to the box to throw the latch. Snuggles was not a happy bird. But Mr. Lionheart and I were feeling very pleased with ourselves. He helped me carry the boxed-bird into the house for safe keeping and then bid me good day.
Naturally, I immediately struck out for Town Hall to let the Mayor know that I had captured a crow and wanted my bounty.
Do not think for a moment, dear journal, that I was not still considering keeping Snuggles for myself as a pet…I’ve heard you can teach them to talk…but for the moment greed was winning.
Of course I didn’t make it. As I approached Town Hall I noticed smoke and heard shouting and, curious, went around to the canal side of the building and was frozen in horror.
Footman Industries was aflame! The ladies fire brigade was bravely fighting the flames but still, when the flames were doused, the building looked to be a waste. Gizzzy explained (as best she could, given her damaged condition) that Mr. Footman had injected himself with something, possibly the same strain of immortalis as he used on me, and had passed-out, knocking a lantern over in the process and setting the building alight. I have no way of knowing if Mr. Footman has survived this experiment, as Miss Gizzzy sent him up to the Rama and the transporter was damaged too much for me to go up and find out.
I can only hope…what was he thinking? When I see him next (assuming he is alive) I shall thump him soundly for making me worry!
The Ladies of the Fire Brigade and Mr. Mornington helped me get Miss Gizzzy to Mr. Lionheart, who I knew had some experience with clockworks. I felt completely useless and, I must admit, a little destitute so I left her in their capable hands and went to take care of Snuggles and get my mind off the troubles at hand.
Fortunately I ran into Miss. Dagger on the way home and she offered to help me carry the box to Clockhaven to the Pub Mr. Tenk’s Office. We were awaiting the Clockwinder when that horrible….thing…who works for Mr. Underby showed up.
In case I have never described him to you before let me do so now.
Mr. Underby’s bodyguard is a big man by the name of Boris. Boris, I think anyway, smells like old cabbage and unwashed hair and has a face that looks to have been sculpted by repeated poundings from a blunt object, and those repeated poundings have clearly done something to addle his brains.
Honestly, Mr. Underby must have dredged the filthiest canal in Babbage to haul that thing up as an employee. Even he could do better.
What was I saying…ah yes, Boris showed up.
Naturally, knowing his affiliation with Mr. Underby I was reluctant to let him know what I was up to but tried to play nice and even let him sit down on the box with me whilst we waiting for Mr. Tenk to arrive.
Oh lord, what a mistake to let that man within forty feet of me!
That filthy creature had the audacity to[pencil tip tears long line in page from pressure obscuring rest of sentence].
Well, anyway, as soon as he laid hands on me I stomped on his foot which caused him to retaliate. Then I did the only natural thing I could think of, which was to hide behind Jed and luckily the Clockwinder arrived just then and the two of them seemed to intimidate that Neanderthal enough to force him to take his rage out on something else, and the easiest thing in reach was my trunk! The thing shattered and Snuggles flew away and with him my chance at the bounty. Even Mr. Tenk’s quick action couldn’t capture the bird in time.
As is to be expected given that his employee was already around, the snake-belly man himself, Mr. Underby, showed up. Naturally his first move was the insult Mr. Tenk (and somehow Miss Lillie in the same breath…it was impressive, not that I would ever admit that to him). I don’t know what his second move would have been because I choose, at that moment, to demand that Mr. Underby pay me the money which Boris had just cost me.
Much to my surprise (given the sum of it) Mr. Underby agreed and wrote me a cheque on the spot. I thanked him kindly and suggested that if he didn’t get his man under control I would lodge a formal complaint with Mr. Undertone next time.
Mr. Underby sent Boris away then, but not before conferring with the man about something which ended in both of them giving me a strange look before Boris departed.
Mr. Underby left shortly thereafter and I returned home, exhausted from the days events. I had thought that I would immediately drop off to sleep, but I’m afraid I was roused by a feeling of alarm and found myself going through the house, checking the locks and peeking out the window as if I expected to see Boris standing beneath the lamppost.
It was a ridiculous notion, but still I stoked the fire and sat down to write this.
I think I am feeling calmer now.
Perhaps I shall try for sleep again.
~S.MacB.
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