Wednesday, January the 1st, 2003

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Sidney The Bat Is Awarded The Order Of Lenin

Like many bats, Sidney spent much of his time hanging upside down in a dark cave. Both of Sidney's parents were still alive, and on Saturdays he would visit them. They lived in the attic of a museum, and enjoyed swooping, wings aflutter, around the heads of any employees who came up to the attic, which was used for storage. The museum was devoted to electro-magnetic apparatus, galvanometers, and cast iron mesmeric engines. It was the most renowned museum of its kind in the country, numbering among its exhibits not only Von Ick's Patent Trance Inducer, but also the collected working papers of the great potato scientist O’Hargreaves.

The Chief Curator, Professor Maud Dweb, had received many complaints about the bats in the attic. One young assistant, on his first visit up there, had been frightened out of his wits. His parents had had him removed to a sanatorium in mountainous country, and were toying with the idea of prosecuting the museum. Other cases were pending. Professor Dweb decided to act. One Saturday evening, after the museum had closed, she ascended the staircase to the gloomy attic. The full moon was visible through the skylight. It was the work of moments to set a number of bat-traps at various points in the darkness. As she prepared to depart, Professor Dweb stumbled over a large crate containing the world's only remaining example of Bickering's Electro-Magnetic Hinge, banged her head on the wall, and dropped to the floor, unconscious. Sidney's parents swooped low and perched—do bats perch?—on her back. At that very moment, Sidney flapped in through the skylight. Let us pause here briefly.

* * *

“The rudder has been staunched, Cap'n!” cried Bagshaw from the poop deck. He unrolled the sailcloth. The captain drummed his fists upon a plank. Werewolves tore at the rigging. Bagshaw held aloft the bails of a wicket.


[This was Professor Dweb's dream as she lay unconscious.]

* * *

Sidney greeted his parents and his parents greeted him—in bat-language, of course. They told him what had happened to Professor Dweb, who had by now sunk into a near-catatonic stupor. Sidney was most disappointed. Where was the fun in swooping and flapping his wings around a completely unconscious person? She wouldn't be scared at all! He resolved to arouse the celebrated scholar, and at once began to make hideous bat-like squealing noises directly into her ears, thudding his wings against her temples. It took a good few minutes, but at last Professor Dweb woke with a start. Then she screeched, flailing her arms to ward off the mischievous bat. She fled the attic, slamming the trap door behind her, leaving the fiendish bat-traps to do their work.

An hour later she was back in the attic, armed with a torch. She found Sidney hanging upside down from a rafter. “Well, young bat,” she announced, “Inadvertently, you have performed a great service to your country! Had you not woken me from my stupor, thieves would have made off with the most prized exhibit in this museum. I was only just in time to nab them! Fleeing from you, I went downstairs to find a pair of traitorous counter-revolutionary ne'er-do-wells about to steal Darjeeling's Anti-Imperialist Galvanising Motor! You are—as a mere bat—probably unaware that this machine is a numinous symbol of our national achievement. I shall recommend to the President that you are given an award in recognition of your great deed. Well done!” Sidney's parents patted him proudly on the head. Professor Dweb at once dismantled the bat-traps. The moon shimmered through the skylight.


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