"Yes, from the guns, you know. I haven't been able to overcome that,
and, until I do, I'm afraid my latest invention will be a failure."

Ned shook his head.

"I'm afraid I can't help you any," he said. "The only thing I
know about recoils is connected with an old shotgun my father
used to own.

"I took that once, when he didn't know it," Ned proceeded. "It
was pretty heavily loaded, for the crows had been having fun in
our cornfield, and dad had been shooting at them. This time I
thought I'd take a chance.

"Well, I fired the gun. But it must have had a double charge in
it and been rusted at that. All I know is that after I pulled the
trigger I thought the end of the world had come. I heard a clap of
thunder, and then I went flying over backward into a blackberry patch."

"That was the recoil," said Tom.

"The what?" asked Ned.

"The recoil. The recoil of the gun knocked you over."

"Oh, yes," observed Ned, rubbing his shoulder in a reflective
sort of way. "I always thought it was something like that. But,
at the time I put it down to an explosion, and let it go at that."