Reading Help The Time Machine by H. G. Wells
suggested. For my own part, I was particularly preoccupied with the `
` trick of the model. That I remember discussing with the Medical Man, `
` whom I met on Friday at the Linnaean. He said he had seen a similar `
` thing at Tubingen, and laid considerable stress on the blowing out `
` of the candle. But how the trick was done he could not explain. `
` `
` The next Thursday I went again to Richmond--I suppose I was one of `
` the Time Traveller's most constant guests--and, arriving late, found `
` four or five men already assembled in his drawing-room. The Medical `
` Man was standing before the fire with a sheet of paper in one hand `
` and his watch in the other. I looked round for the Time Traveller, `
` and--'It's half-past seven now,' said the Medical Man. 'I suppose `
` we'd better have dinner?' `
` `
` 'Where's----?' said I, naming our host. `
` `
` 'You've just come? It's rather odd. He's unavoidably detained. He `
` asks me in this note to lead off with dinner at seven if he's not `
` back. Says he'll explain when he comes.' `
` `
` 'It seems a pity to let the dinner spoil,' said the Editor of a `
` well-known daily paper; and thereupon the Doctor rang the bell. `
` `
` The Psychologist was the only person besides the Doctor and myself `
` who had attended the previous dinner. The other men were Blank, the `
` Editor aforementioned, a certain journalist, and another--a quiet, `
` shy man with a beard--whom I didn't know, and who, as far as my `
` observation went, never opened his mouth all the evening. There was `
` some speculation at the dinner-table about the Time Traveller's `
` absence, and I suggested time travelling, in a half-jocular spirit. `
` The Editor wanted that explained to him, and the Psychologist `
` volunteered a wooden account of the 'ingenious paradox and trick' we `
` had witnessed that day week. He was in the midst of his exposition `
` when the door from the corridor opened slowly and without noise. I `
` was facing the door, and saw it first. 'Hallo!' I said. 'At last!' `
` And the door opened wider, and the Time Traveller stood before us. `
` I gave a cry of surprise. 'Good heavens! man, what's the matter?' `
` cried the Medical Man, who saw him next. And the whole tableful `
` turned towards the door. `
` `
` He was in an amazing plight. His coat was dusty and dirty, and `
` smeared with green down the sleeves; his hair disordered, and as it `
` seemed to me greyer--either with dust and dirt or because its colour `
` had actually faded. His face was ghastly pale; his chin had a brown `
` cut on it--a cut half healed; his expression was haggard and drawn, `
` as by intense suffering. For a moment he hesitated in the doorway, `
` as if he had been dazzled by the light. Then he came into the room. `
` He walked with just such a limp as I have seen in footsore tramps. `
` We stared at him in silence, expecting him to speak. `
` `
` He said not a word, but came painfully to the table, and made a `
` motion towards the wine. The Editor filled a glass of champagne, and `
` pushed it towards him. He drained it, and it seemed to do him good: `
` for he looked round the table, and the ghost of his old smile `
` flickered across his face. 'What on earth have you been up to, man?' `
` said the Doctor. The Time Traveller did not seem to hear. 'Don't let `
` me disturb you,' he said, with a certain faltering articulation. `
` 'I'm all right.' He stopped, held out his glass for more, and took `
` it off at a draught. 'That's good,' he said. His eyes grew brighter, `
` and a faint colour came into his cheeks. His glance flickered over `
` our faces with a certain dull approval, and then went round the warm `
` and comfortable room. Then he spoke again, still as it were feeling `
` his way among his words. 'I'm going to wash and dress, and then I'll `
` come down and explain things ... Save me some of that mutton. I'm `
` starving for a bit of meat.' `
` `
` He looked across at the Editor, who was a rare visitor, and hoped he `
` was all right. The Editor began a question. 'Tell you presently,' `
` said the Time Traveller. 'I'm--funny! Be all right in a minute.' `
` `
` He put down his glass, and walked towards the staircase door. Again `
` I remarked his lameness and the soft padding sound of his footfall, `
` and standing up in my place, I saw his feet as he went out. He had `
` nothing on them but a pair of tattered, blood-stained socks. Then the `
` door closed upon him. I had half a mind to follow, till I remembered `
` how he detested any fuss about himself. For a minute, perhaps, my `
` mind was wool-gathering. Then, 'Remarkable Behaviour of an Eminent `
` Scientist,' I heard the Editor say, thinking (after his wont) in `
` headlines. And this brought my attention back to the bright `
` dinner-table. `
` `
` 'What's the game?' said the Journalist. 'Has he been doing the `
` Amateur Cadger? I don't follow.' I met the eye of the Psychologist, `
` and read my own interpretation in his face. I thought of the Time `
` Traveller limping painfully upstairs. I don't think any one else had `
` noticed his lameness. `
` `
` The first to recover completely from this surprise was the Medical `
` Man, who rang the bell--the Time Traveller hated to have servants `
` waiting at dinner--for a hot plate. At that the Editor turned to his `
` knife and fork with a grunt, and the Silent Man followed suit. The `
` dinner was resumed. Conversation was exclamatory for a little while, `
` with gaps of wonderment; and then the Editor got fervent in his `
` curiosity. 'Does our friend eke out his modest income with a `
` crossing? or has he his Nebuchadnezzar phases?' he inquired. 'I feel `
` assured it's this business of the Time Machine,' I said, and took up `
` the Psychologist's account of our previous meeting. The new guests `
` were frankly incredulous. The Editor raised objections. 'What _was_ `
` this time travelling? A man couldn't cover himself with dust by `
` rolling in a paradox, could he?' And then, as the idea came home to `
` him, he resorted to caricature. Hadn't they any clothes-brushes in `
` the Future? The Journalist too, would not believe at any price, and `
` joined the Editor in the easy work of heaping ridicule on the whole `
` thing. They were both the new kind of journalist--very joyous, `
` irreverent young men. 'Our Special Correspondent in the Day `
` after To-morrow reports,' the Journalist was saying--or rather `
` shouting--when the Time Traveller came back. He was dressed in `
` ordinary evening clothes, and nothing save his haggard look remained `
` of the change that had startled me. `
` `
` 'I say,' said the Editor hilariously, 'these chaps here say you have `
` been travelling into the middle of next week! Tell us all about `
` little Rosebery, will you? What will you take for the lot?' `
` `
` The Time Traveller came to the place reserved for him without a `
` word. He smiled quietly, in his old way. 'Where's my mutton?' he `
` said. 'What a treat it is to stick a fork into meat again!' `
` `
` 'Story!' cried the Editor. `
` `
` 'Story be damned!' said the Time Traveller. 'I want something to `
` eat. I won't say a word until I get some peptone into my arteries. `
` Thanks. And the salt.' `
` `
` 'One word,' said I. 'Have you been time travelling?' `
` `
` 'Yes,' said the Time Traveller, with his mouth full, nodding his `
` head. `
` `
` 'I'd give a shilling a line for a verbatim note,' said the Editor. `
` The Time Traveller pushed his glass towards the Silent Man and rang `
` it with his fingernail; at which the Silent Man, who had been `
` staring at his face, started convulsively, and poured him wine. `
` The rest of the dinner was uncomfortable. For my own part, sudden `
` questions kept on rising to my lips, and I dare say it was the same `
` with the others. The Journalist tried to relieve the tension by `
` telling anecdotes of Hettie Potter. The Time Traveller devoted his `
` attention to his dinner, and displayed the appetite of a tramp. `
` The Medical Man smoked a cigarette, and watched the Time Traveller `
` through his eyelashes. The Silent Man seemed even more clumsy than `
` usual, and drank champagne with regularity and determination out of `
` sheer nervousness. At last the Time Traveller pushed his plate away, `
` and looked round us. 'I suppose I must apologize,' he said. 'I was `
` simply starving. I've had a most amazing time.' He reached out his `
` hand for a cigar, and cut the end. 'But come into the smoking-room. `
` It's too long a story to tell over greasy plates.' And ringing the `
` bell in passing, he led the way into the adjoining room. `
` `
` 'You have told Blank, and Dash, and Chose about the machine?' he `
` said to me, leaning back in his easy-chair and naming the three new `
` guests. `
` `
` 'But the thing's a mere paradox,' said the Editor. `
` `
` 'I can't argue to-night. I don't mind telling you the story, but `
` I can't argue. I will,' he went on, 'tell you the story of what `
` has happened to me, if you like, but you must refrain from `
` interruptions. I want to tell it. Badly. Most of it will sound like `
` lying. So be it! It's true--every word of it, all the same. I was in `
` my laboratory at four o'clock, and since then ... I've lived eight `
` days ... such days as no human being ever lived before! I'm nearly `
` worn out, but I shan't sleep till I've told this thing over to you. `
` Then I shall go to bed. But no interruptions! Is it agreed?' `
` `
` 'Agreed,' said the Editor, and the rest of us echoed 'Agreed.' And `
` with that the Time Traveller began his story as I have set it forth. `
` He sat back in his chair at first, and spoke like a weary man. `
` Afterwards he got more animated. In writing it down I feel with only `
` too much keenness the inadequacy of pen and ink--and, above all, my `
` own inadequacy--to express its quality. You read, I will suppose, `
` attentively enough; but you cannot see the speaker's white, `
` sincere face in the bright circle of the little lamp, nor hear the `
` intonation of his voice. You cannot know how his expression followed `
` the turns of his story! Most of us hearers were in shadow, for the `
` candles in the smoking-room had not been lighted, and only the face `
` of the Journalist and the legs of the Silent Man from the knees `
` downward were illuminated. At first we glanced now and again at each `
` other. After a time we ceased to do that, and looked only at the `
` Time Traveller's face. `
` `
` `
` `
` III `
` `
` `
` 'I told some of you last Thursday of the principles of the Time `
` Machine, and showed you the actual thing itself, incomplete in the `
` workshop. There it is now, a little travel-worn, truly; and one of `
` the ivory bars is cracked, and a brass rail bent; but the rest of `
` it's sound enough. I expected to finish it on Friday, but on Friday, `
` when the putting together was nearly done, I found that one of the `
` nickel bars was exactly one inch too short, and this I had to get `
` remade; so that the thing was not complete until this morning. It `
` was at ten o'clock to-day that the first of all Time Machines began `
` its career. I gave it a last tap, tried all the screws again, put `
` one more drop of oil on the quartz rod, and sat myself in the `
` saddle. I suppose a suicide who holds a pistol to his skull feels `
` much the same wonder at what will come next as I felt then. I took `
` the starting lever in one hand and the stopping one in the other, `
` pressed the first, and almost immediately the second. I seemed to `
` reel; I felt a nightmare sensation of falling; and, looking round, `
`
` trick of the model. That I remember discussing with the Medical Man, `
` whom I met on Friday at the Linnaean. He said he had seen a similar `
` thing at Tubingen, and laid considerable stress on the blowing out `
` of the candle. But how the trick was done he could not explain. `
` `
` The next Thursday I went again to Richmond--I suppose I was one of `
` the Time Traveller's most constant guests--and, arriving late, found `
` four or five men already assembled in his drawing-room. The Medical `
` Man was standing before the fire with a sheet of paper in one hand `
` and his watch in the other. I looked round for the Time Traveller, `
` and--'It's half-past seven now,' said the Medical Man. 'I suppose `
` we'd better have dinner?' `
` `
` 'Where's----?' said I, naming our host. `
` `
` 'You've just come? It's rather odd. He's unavoidably detained. He `
` asks me in this note to lead off with dinner at seven if he's not `
` back. Says he'll explain when he comes.' `
` `
` 'It seems a pity to let the dinner spoil,' said the Editor of a `
` well-known daily paper; and thereupon the Doctor rang the bell. `
` `
` The Psychologist was the only person besides the Doctor and myself `
` who had attended the previous dinner. The other men were Blank, the `
` Editor aforementioned, a certain journalist, and another--a quiet, `
` shy man with a beard--whom I didn't know, and who, as far as my `
` observation went, never opened his mouth all the evening. There was `
` some speculation at the dinner-table about the Time Traveller's `
` absence, and I suggested time travelling, in a half-jocular spirit. `
` The Editor wanted that explained to him, and the Psychologist `
` volunteered a wooden account of the 'ingenious paradox and trick' we `
` had witnessed that day week. He was in the midst of his exposition `
` when the door from the corridor opened slowly and without noise. I `
` was facing the door, and saw it first. 'Hallo!' I said. 'At last!' `
` And the door opened wider, and the Time Traveller stood before us. `
` I gave a cry of surprise. 'Good heavens! man, what's the matter?' `
` cried the Medical Man, who saw him next. And the whole tableful `
` turned towards the door. `
` `
` He was in an amazing plight. His coat was dusty and dirty, and `
` smeared with green down the sleeves; his hair disordered, and as it `
` seemed to me greyer--either with dust and dirt or because its colour `
` had actually faded. His face was ghastly pale; his chin had a brown `
` cut on it--a cut half healed; his expression was haggard and drawn, `
` as by intense suffering. For a moment he hesitated in the doorway, `
` as if he had been dazzled by the light. Then he came into the room. `
` He walked with just such a limp as I have seen in footsore tramps. `
` We stared at him in silence, expecting him to speak. `
` `
` He said not a word, but came painfully to the table, and made a `
` motion towards the wine. The Editor filled a glass of champagne, and `
` pushed it towards him. He drained it, and it seemed to do him good: `
` for he looked round the table, and the ghost of his old smile `
` flickered across his face. 'What on earth have you been up to, man?' `
` said the Doctor. The Time Traveller did not seem to hear. 'Don't let `
` me disturb you,' he said, with a certain faltering articulation. `
` 'I'm all right.' He stopped, held out his glass for more, and took `
` it off at a draught. 'That's good,' he said. His eyes grew brighter, `
` and a faint colour came into his cheeks. His glance flickered over `
` our faces with a certain dull approval, and then went round the warm `
` and comfortable room. Then he spoke again, still as it were feeling `
` his way among his words. 'I'm going to wash and dress, and then I'll `
` come down and explain things ... Save me some of that mutton. I'm `
` starving for a bit of meat.' `
` `
` He looked across at the Editor, who was a rare visitor, and hoped he `
` was all right. The Editor began a question. 'Tell you presently,' `
` said the Time Traveller. 'I'm--funny! Be all right in a minute.' `
` `
` He put down his glass, and walked towards the staircase door. Again `
` I remarked his lameness and the soft padding sound of his footfall, `
` and standing up in my place, I saw his feet as he went out. He had `
` nothing on them but a pair of tattered, blood-stained socks. Then the `
` door closed upon him. I had half a mind to follow, till I remembered `
` how he detested any fuss about himself. For a minute, perhaps, my `
` mind was wool-gathering. Then, 'Remarkable Behaviour of an Eminent `
` Scientist,' I heard the Editor say, thinking (after his wont) in `
` headlines. And this brought my attention back to the bright `
` dinner-table. `
` `
` 'What's the game?' said the Journalist. 'Has he been doing the `
` Amateur Cadger? I don't follow.' I met the eye of the Psychologist, `
` and read my own interpretation in his face. I thought of the Time `
` Traveller limping painfully upstairs. I don't think any one else had `
` noticed his lameness. `
` `
` The first to recover completely from this surprise was the Medical `
` Man, who rang the bell--the Time Traveller hated to have servants `
` waiting at dinner--for a hot plate. At that the Editor turned to his `
` knife and fork with a grunt, and the Silent Man followed suit. The `
` dinner was resumed. Conversation was exclamatory for a little while, `
` with gaps of wonderment; and then the Editor got fervent in his `
` curiosity. 'Does our friend eke out his modest income with a `
` crossing? or has he his Nebuchadnezzar phases?' he inquired. 'I feel `
` assured it's this business of the Time Machine,' I said, and took up `
` the Psychologist's account of our previous meeting. The new guests `
` were frankly incredulous. The Editor raised objections. 'What _was_ `
` this time travelling? A man couldn't cover himself with dust by `
` rolling in a paradox, could he?' And then, as the idea came home to `
` him, he resorted to caricature. Hadn't they any clothes-brushes in `
` the Future? The Journalist too, would not believe at any price, and `
` joined the Editor in the easy work of heaping ridicule on the whole `
` thing. They were both the new kind of journalist--very joyous, `
` irreverent young men. 'Our Special Correspondent in the Day `
` after To-morrow reports,' the Journalist was saying--or rather `
` shouting--when the Time Traveller came back. He was dressed in `
` ordinary evening clothes, and nothing save his haggard look remained `
` of the change that had startled me. `
` `
` 'I say,' said the Editor hilariously, 'these chaps here say you have `
` been travelling into the middle of next week! Tell us all about `
` little Rosebery, will you? What will you take for the lot?' `
` `
` The Time Traveller came to the place reserved for him without a `
` word. He smiled quietly, in his old way. 'Where's my mutton?' he `
` said. 'What a treat it is to stick a fork into meat again!' `
` `
` 'Story!' cried the Editor. `
` `
` 'Story be damned!' said the Time Traveller. 'I want something to `
` eat. I won't say a word until I get some peptone into my arteries. `
` Thanks. And the salt.' `
` `
` 'One word,' said I. 'Have you been time travelling?' `
` `
` 'Yes,' said the Time Traveller, with his mouth full, nodding his `
` head. `
` `
` 'I'd give a shilling a line for a verbatim note,' said the Editor. `
` The Time Traveller pushed his glass towards the Silent Man and rang `
` it with his fingernail; at which the Silent Man, who had been `
` staring at his face, started convulsively, and poured him wine. `
` The rest of the dinner was uncomfortable. For my own part, sudden `
` questions kept on rising to my lips, and I dare say it was the same `
` with the others. The Journalist tried to relieve the tension by `
` telling anecdotes of Hettie Potter. The Time Traveller devoted his `
` attention to his dinner, and displayed the appetite of a tramp. `
` The Medical Man smoked a cigarette, and watched the Time Traveller `
` through his eyelashes. The Silent Man seemed even more clumsy than `
` usual, and drank champagne with regularity and determination out of `
` sheer nervousness. At last the Time Traveller pushed his plate away, `
` and looked round us. 'I suppose I must apologize,' he said. 'I was `
` simply starving. I've had a most amazing time.' He reached out his `
` hand for a cigar, and cut the end. 'But come into the smoking-room. `
` It's too long a story to tell over greasy plates.' And ringing the `
` bell in passing, he led the way into the adjoining room. `
` `
` 'You have told Blank, and Dash, and Chose about the machine?' he `
` said to me, leaning back in his easy-chair and naming the three new `
` guests. `
` `
` 'But the thing's a mere paradox,' said the Editor. `
` `
` 'I can't argue to-night. I don't mind telling you the story, but `
` I can't argue. I will,' he went on, 'tell you the story of what `
` has happened to me, if you like, but you must refrain from `
` interruptions. I want to tell it. Badly. Most of it will sound like `
` lying. So be it! It's true--every word of it, all the same. I was in `
` my laboratory at four o'clock, and since then ... I've lived eight `
` days ... such days as no human being ever lived before! I'm nearly `
` worn out, but I shan't sleep till I've told this thing over to you. `
` Then I shall go to bed. But no interruptions! Is it agreed?' `
` `
` 'Agreed,' said the Editor, and the rest of us echoed 'Agreed.' And `
` with that the Time Traveller began his story as I have set it forth. `
` He sat back in his chair at first, and spoke like a weary man. `
` Afterwards he got more animated. In writing it down I feel with only `
` too much keenness the inadequacy of pen and ink--and, above all, my `
` own inadequacy--to express its quality. You read, I will suppose, `
` attentively enough; but you cannot see the speaker's white, `
` sincere face in the bright circle of the little lamp, nor hear the `
` intonation of his voice. You cannot know how his expression followed `
` the turns of his story! Most of us hearers were in shadow, for the `
` candles in the smoking-room had not been lighted, and only the face `
` of the Journalist and the legs of the Silent Man from the knees `
` downward were illuminated. At first we glanced now and again at each `
` other. After a time we ceased to do that, and looked only at the `
` Time Traveller's face. `
` `
` `
` `
` III `
` `
` `
` 'I told some of you last Thursday of the principles of the Time `
` Machine, and showed you the actual thing itself, incomplete in the `
` workshop. There it is now, a little travel-worn, truly; and one of `
` the ivory bars is cracked, and a brass rail bent; but the rest of `
` it's sound enough. I expected to finish it on Friday, but on Friday, `
` when the putting together was nearly done, I found that one of the `
` nickel bars was exactly one inch too short, and this I had to get `
` remade; so that the thing was not complete until this morning. It `
` was at ten o'clock to-day that the first of all Time Machines began `
` its career. I gave it a last tap, tried all the screws again, put `
` one more drop of oil on the quartz rod, and sat myself in the `
` saddle. I suppose a suicide who holds a pistol to his skull feels `
` much the same wonder at what will come next as I felt then. I took `
` the starting lever in one hand and the stopping one in the other, `
` pressed the first, and almost immediately the second. I seemed to `
` reel; I felt a nightmare sensation of falling; and, looking round, `
`