for such a law, in 1736, after amending it,
they made another one letting folks wear any kind of decorated cloth
they had a mind to, so long as its warp was entirely of linen yarn.
This provided England with a market for her flax. But once the law was
passed the delighted manufacturers began to turn out colored cloth by
the bushelful, making any amount more than they could sell just because
they were allowed to. This led to another difficulty--where were they
going to get enough linen warp? The cottagers who worked at home with
their little spinning wheels could not begin to turn out the supply
that was needed, and weavers of cloth went traveling everywhere over
England buying up all the linen thread people would sell and begging
for more. And not only did they want linen warp but they wanted it
stronger and coarser so they could weave heavier cloth. Now the
spinning wheels only turned out single thread. What was to be done?"

"Well, what was to be done?" echoed Mary.

"It was trying to find an answer to all this weaving muddle that set
John Kay to inventing his flying shuttle," replied Carl. "Until then it
had taken two people to send the heavy shuttles with the warp on them
across the looms. His new flying shuttle did the same work with only
one person to operate it. You'd think that an improvement in weaving,
wouldn't you; and you'd have the right, if you worked out the idea, to
believe the weavers would be pleased?"

"Certainly," returned his mother.

"Well, instead of being pleased, the workmen were crazy," Carl
announced.

"Why?"

"Because they were such blockheads they were afraid Kay's invention was
going to put them out of their jobs. In fact, they got so soured on
poor old Kay that his life was actually in danger and he had to get out
of England. There's gratitude for you!" concluded the boy with a shrug.

"But later on they learned better, I suppose, and sent for him to come
back," Mary suggested. "That's the way people always do."

"These people didn't," was Carl's grim retort. "Not on your tin-type!
They never got Kay back again in spite of all he'd done for them.
Instead, he died somewhere abroad without receiving much of anything
for his invention. Wouldn't that make you hot? In the meantime, about
1738, a chap called Lewis Paul got out a double set of rollers that
would draw out thread and twist it--a stunt previously done by hand. So
it went. Here and there men all over England, knowing the ne