Allow me to introduce myself – Miss Delores Mayfeather.
Well, appearance is everything, wouldn’t you agree? It’s the details that matter and I should never permit myself to be seen in public without looking my best.
I understand from my eccentric but knowledgeable friend Professor Erazmus that in another dimension it is all the rage to produce ‘selfies’ – images of oneself contained in a small glass device. Imagine being able to photograph oneself, whenever one pleases! I feel I should fit well into that culture. Nevertheless, in mine, I must content myself with ‘sitting’ (although I was compelled to stand, which was most fatiguing) for a photographer named Miss Podmore at her studio in Lexden Gardens.
I was delighted to discover a female photographer – such a pleasant change from those rough-spoken men – and this lady was both polite and a master of her craft.
She showed me a range of canvas backgrounds – ‘drops’, she called them – and allowed me to select a few. Naturally, I selected images of cogwheels and machinery, the better to display my mechanical arms.
Had you not noticed them? They are most cunningly designed to augment my natural muscles and to allow me to utilise super-human strength – an ability most necessary for a young lady when walking in the streets of London these days, in my opinion.
Miss Podmore was kind enough to say that I made a most agreeable subject. She even asked my permission to display a copy of my photograph in her studio. Naturally, I agreed.
I shall definitely use her services again.
Should you wish to view or purchase a miniature copy of my portrait, simply click here.
I myself can be found at this address.
So delightful to have spoken with you. I must now hasten away to oil my arms. The weather does not agree with them at all.
Alex, the young adventurer whom regular readers last met on an airship journey 
James, a debonair gentleman carrying a telescope and sporting a very unusual monocle – are about to embark on a new adventure.
As promised, the first of the steampunk-themed rooms has now joined the items for sale at the Steampunk Dolls House shop on Etsy UK.
Professor Erasmus, in his black and gold smoking jacket and cap, stands, deep in thought, staring into the domed scrying glass set into his bench. Ancient books, contraptions and receptacles of various kinds surround him or lie on shelf behind him. An elaborate system of chains and pulleys hang from the ceiling and above the wooden wall panelling, the cogs that control various clockwork mechanisms can be glimpsed.
The scrying room was created by Matt, the shop’s owner, while Erasmus was made here in my workshop, to Matt’s specifications.
Here’s a rare picture of Amelia with her identical twin sister Leonora. When I first met them they both looked exactly like Leonora (left).
So here she is – a fearless flyer and expert mechanic. She may be petite and blonde, but she’s the equal of any other aviator and is happy to strip down an engine with the best of them.
As for Leonora, she must have been inspired by her sister. Following a very unpromising start as a dolls’ house housewife, she ended up as a renowned explorer, travelling the world with her glass astro-chronometer. Her unusual goggles have integrated clockwork dart-launchers. I wish I had the skill to make them work!
Meet Bella, one of my favourite steampunk creations.
Bella was adamant, though. She wanted a mask.
Tiny coils of brass wire formed the eye spaces and cheekbones. Minute cogs and chains were stitched into the spaces, and there was Bella’s mask.
“Mongolia?” repeated Mercurius, his eyebrows almost vanishing beneath his flying helmet.
“There’s no need to squawk in that manner, young man,” Algy responded. “Your advertisement in the Gentleman’s Weekly stated that you would carry any cargo to any destination with no questions asked. Yet you pester me with questions!”
Somewhat unwillingly, Mercurius picked up the casket and attached it to the lanyard beneath his greatcoat. He hung the key beside it. Algernon handed him the envelope stuffed with banknotes.
As the door closed behind Mercurius, Algy picked up his Device and cradled it fondly in his arms.
Lucy Etherington was a legend at the Academy. Her classes were always full; her lessons were endlessly surprising and – while her teachings were sometimes frowned upon by the more conservative members of the college’s governing body – her successes were indisputable. Many of her former students were now world renowned explorers, inventors and scientists.
The visitor gave a tinkling laugh, not unlike the sound of tiny metal bells.
Eve nodded and gave her tinkling, slightly mechanical laugh once more.
“I was impressed – and intrigued – by this hat you sent me, Mr – Lars?”
“I am wearing my invention upon my head,” Lars said, almost casually. “Far from wasting your time, Mr Robertson, I have the means here to free you from it altogether and to give you complete control over it.”
“It works through steam power,” Lars continued. “Steam, as of course you are aware, has great power. It is composed of water. And water, you may also be aware, has – memory.”
William’s eyes bulged. He tried to take in this information, to sort it in his mind, to work out the implications and possibilities of using such a machine. Quite suddenly he wheeled round and faced Lars, his eyes blazing.
“You are NOT to pay for the device,” Lars cut in. “You are to pay for the information it provides. I can tell you all you wish to know of any event, at any place or time where the smallest amount of water is, was, or will be present. You will be able to foretell the future! You will be able to make a fortune based on knowing how future events will fall out. You will be able to solve riddles of the past. But you will not own the device. I alone know how to use it and no instructions are written down.” He paused and added, “If you tried, you would merely scald yourself a little.”
This is part of my work table in one of the Steampunk Doll’s House workshops. Yes, there are two.
Most of the figures begin life here, though, in a tiny room at the top of a 350 year old cottage, just down the road from Glastonbury Tor, in Somerset, England.
Steampunk - Shrunk! 