"Fix him together, for God's sake," said Dodge. "He looks awful."

The Genius grinned, and fixed the legs on.

"Now he looks better," said Dodge, poking about the figure --
"looks as much like life as most -- ah, would you, you brute!"
he exclaimed, springing back in alarm, for the figure had made
a violent La Blanche swing at him.

"That's all right," said the Inventor. "It's no good having his face
knocked about, you know -- lot of trouble to make that face.
His head and body are full of springs, and if anybody hits him in the face,
or in the pit of the stomach -- favourite places to hit canvassers,
the pit of the stomach -- it sets a strong spring in motion,
and he fetches his right hand round with a swipe that'll knock them into
the middle of next week. It's an awful hit. Griffo couldn't dodge it,
and Slavin couldn't stand up against it. No fear of any man
hitting HIM twice.

"And he's dog-proof, too. His legs are padded with tar and oakum,
and if a dog bites a bit out of him, it will take that dog weeks
to pick his teeth clean. Never bite anybody again, that dog won't.
And he'll talk, talk, talk, like a suffragist gone mad;
his phonograph can be charged for 100,000 words, and all you've got to do
is to speak into it what you want him to say, and he'll say it.
He'll go on saying it till he talks his man silly, or gets an order.
He has an order-form in his hand, and as soon as anyone signs it
and gives it back to him, that sets another spring in motion,
and he puts the order in his pocket, turns round, and walks away.
Grand idea, isn't he? Lor' bless you, I fairly love him."