That was a capital idea, and it only took a few minutes; to carry it into effect.
"Make your end pins of hard wood," said Mr. Jellicombe; "and shave 'em smooth. Then they'll run easy."'
That was easy enough, but one of those "endpins" was made of an old broom handle, and was more than a foot long.
"I see what you're up to," said the carpenter, with a grin. "You've made a right down good job of it, too. Grease your journals before you let 'em get wet."
Mart's "journals" for his end pins to run in were two holes he bored in a couple of boards. When these were stuck up on each side of the lower end of his flume, and the water-wheel was set in its place, Mart took off his hat and shouted,
"Hurrah! the brook's at work!"
So it was, for it was rushing fiercely through the two old raisin boxes, and down upon the wide "paddles" of Mart's wheel, and this was spinning around at a tremendous rate.
"You've done it!"
"Is that you, Mr. Jellicombe? I didn't know you'd come."
"You've done it. Now what?"