“Can’t you make it go, Tom Drift? Please do.”
“How can I make him go? I don’t know what’s the row.”
“Do you think it would be a good thing to wind it up?” asked Charlie.
“Don’t know; you might try.”
Charlie did wind me up; but that was not what I wanted. Already I had had that done while waiting at Gunborough Junction.
“What do you say to shaking him?” asked Tom Drift presently. Most people spoke of me as “it,” but Tom Drift always called me “him.”
“I hardly like,” said Charlie; “you try.”
Tom took me and solemnly shook me; it was no use. I still remained speechless and helpless.
“Suppose we shove his wheels on?” next suggested that sage philosopher.
Charlie demurred a little at this; it seemed almost too bold a remedy, even for him; however he yielded to Tom’s superior judgment.