[This is the ninth instalment of Mr. Amazon’s Bookshop. A list of all instalments is here; the previous instalment is here.]

I could hardly believe my bleary eyes when I entered the stable the next day — young Edmund was there already, sitting at the trestle table next to the differ controls, with my private notebook open in front of him! He may smudge it with his grubby gardener fingers, or drip his slimy gardener snot over my pages! I swatted him across the back of the hands with my switch (I always carry a switch). “Enough of that lad! What do you think you’re doing? Don’t meddle in matters you don’t understand.”

“Sorry Mr. Whimsley sir. I was just thinking, that’s all. And drawing.”

“Drawing! Drawing what?”

“Well, you were thinking about them books, right?”

“Yes, to put it simplistically, I concede you could say that.”

“Well, I drew some graphs for you. I like graphs. They have colours.”

“Graphs of what, you idiot? I do hope you’ve not been messing up my notebook!”

“Oh no sir. Here they are, in my own … Continue reading

[This is the eighth instalment of Mr. Amazon's Bookshop. A list of all instalments is here; the previous instalment is here.]
As the heat of July dried the horse droppings on the road into that agreeably dusty texture they gain in late summer, I received the final piece I needed to repair my differ. I immediately grabbed Edmund again and headed out to the stable.

"What's this all about Mr. Whimsley?" asked the idiot child.

"Never you mind Edmund. Just watch and learn. And pump those bellows, there's a good lad."

The halfwit pumped and soon I was ready to embark on my first serious venture.

I had the first few lists of books for what I now thought of as a bookshop grown from a single seed, that seed being Special Topics in Calamity Physics. I had already carried out two "visits" to the shop, first picking up a dozen books in succession, and using Mr. Amazon's recommendations to build shelves around each book, selecting one from the shelf each time as a starting point for a new shelf. Now I wanted to … Continue reading

[This is the seventh instalment of Mr. Amazon's Bookshop. A list of all instalments is here; the previous instalment is here.]

Edmund, the gardener's son, has the look of a runt about him: he is undersized, has a perpetually dripping nose and a habit of scratching his backside. He is looked down on by the Whimsley village children, which is an achievement in itself: he positively broadcasts stupidity. On the other hand, his is obedient and hardworking, which are important qualities in the servant classes, and has a strong pair of arms so I decided to let him assist me with my investigation.

I dragged Edmund out to the stables on a warm July morning, ready to set the differ to work and send more questions to Mr. Amazon, and with a fresh supply of pencils to record the results in my trusty notebook. I set the young halfwit to start the bellows and he soon worked up a healthy pressure. I turned the dials and tugged the pulleys to set my question, and was about to pull the master lever one more time, when Edmund shouted and pointed up at the stable roof. I followed the line … Continue reading