Being a retro-futurist, it’s hardly surprising that Augustus Robottom is a man ahead of his time.
Reared in a wealthy family, where servants were the norm, it always seemed wrong to him that these people – some little older than himself – should have to rise earlier and work harder than his family, just to provide for their every necessity and whim.
When he came of age, therefore, Augustus set about inventing artificial servants. These engaging little mechanisms, no larger than a domestic pet and therefore easily portable, are able to perform the tasks traditionally undertaken by those in service.
He originally called his creations ‘Robotts’, after himself, but this gradually became shortened to the more familiar spelling we know today.
They perform a variety of household activities.
Robot T, for example, brews an excellent cup of tea and is able to provide endless refills.Its stereoscopic eyes can swivel, allowing it to check all parts of the room for thirsty individuals, who might be in need of a refreshing beverage. The pressure gauge on its front prevents the urn from overheating.
Robot M (affectionately known as Milly) performs the role of housekeeper. She patrols the house tirelessly, ensuring that all is as it should be, using the aerial on her head to communicate wirelessly with the other robots. Naturally, Milly is never overbearing or officious, but retains a calm, gentle demeanour at all times.
Robot Y performs a plethora of odd jobs, searching endlessly for creaking doors, broken hinges, leaky taps or holes in fences. His head rotates through 360 degrees, so that he can spot potential problems in a moment.
Gus is delighted with his diminutive workforce and is the envy of his acquaintances. He has even decided to go into production, using the profits from his robot sales to set up a fund for unemployed domestic staff to set up their own businesses, thus releasing them from a life of servitude.
I wish I could say that every redundant maid and stable boy is delighted with this turn of events, but there are some, alas, who sadly miss their former employment.
“Some day,” Augustus tells them, “you will thank me for giving you this new chance in life and allowing you to release the creativity and ingenuity that lies within. Some day, humanity will hand over all the dull, repetitive jobs to robots. Mark my words!”
In every job lot of second hand dolls I source, there are treasures and trash.
Next I remembered those booths you used to get on seaside piers or in dark corners of amusement parks with a life-sized mannequin head and upper body. You put your money in the slot, the mannequin jiggled about a bit and stared into a crystal ball, lights shone eerily and a card displaying your fortune emerged from a space below. That was what Daniella would be!
Here in 21st Century England, it is possible, for a modest outlay, to purchase sets of what are called ‘storage suitcases’ from a well-known chain of stationery shops. These sturdy little card cases, with metal handles and hinges, come in three sizes ranging from 12 x 8 x 3.5 inches (30 x 20 x 9 cm) down to 8 x 6 x 3 inches (14 x 20 x 8 cm).
It is the room in which Henry the tinker (
The Case of the Balloon Journey
Land can just be glimpsed through the clouds below, while Harvey stands in his basket, which has a turning anemometer and a burner with working flame (powered by a battery tea light). Harvey wears a genuine leather coat and flying helmet and has all the details and gadget you’ve come to expect from steampunk-Shrunk figures. This case costs £68 (or £48 without figure).
The Case of the Withdrawing Room
This small case shows 
The Case of the Tinker’s Time Machine
Yet another time traveller! Here you find George Entwhistle hard at work on a partially completed temporal transporter. You can find the full story 
The Case of the Tea Duel
Greetings to all from the grey, damp and murky land of Avalon, where life, myth and mystery combine curiously amongst the swirling mists (well, actually thundering hail storms at the moment, but that’s a temporary glitch, I’m sure).
Messrs Crackington and Balsover are busily creating an emporium filled with a host of cunning contrivances and devious devices, which will be available for purchase at our forthcoming sales.
Over the next few weeks, we will be highlighting more of the delights you can expect to discover on the Steampunk-Shrunk stalls which will be appearing around the land.
I, Ebenezer Crackington, am by trade a clockmaker. I have worked at this trade since I completed my apprenticeship in the beautiful city of Paris, France, many years ago, at the age of twenty-two.
I commenced by using a double bell for the alarm mechanism, with a strong beater which alternated between the two. I then constructed a large claxon, which I fashioned from a trombone horn, which moved about in a haphazard and suitably alarming fashion when activated.
Since I was concerned that the 
George Entwhistle, a patents clerk by day, had always enjoyed tinkering. The trouble was, tinkering could be a somewhat noisy activity. Living as he did in a terraced property, he had to contend with frequent complaints from neighbours and visits from members of the constabulary.
Imagine George’s surprise and delight as he discovered a further door at the base, which opened quite easily, revealing a large cellar!
From that day onward, George worked to transform the cellar into a tinker’s workshop. He extended the heating pipes downwards to power a boiler, which not only heated the workshop, but allowed him to brew a much-needed cup of tea from time to time. He constructed a doorbell with a wire connecting it to the front of his house, so that callers could be heard. He made himself a shelf and workbench and even installed a clock and mirror. The result was a commodious and most agreeable work space. George was a happy man.
As you can see, his contraption is well underway, and he’s able to fire it up for short periods.
“Good lord!” Barnaby Balsover exclaimed, “There’s a chap there having his shoes polished by a clockwork automaton! Quite remarkable!”
Freddy Huntington-Groff casually selected one of the silver-handled screwdrivers from his breast pocket and lifted the bonnet.
Yes, tensions were building. Tobias had always viewed the car as his ‘Angel’ but now, with Freddy’s arrival on the scene, he appeared to have a rival.
Both men turned to look at her. It was difficult to look anywhere else when Josephine was in the vicinity.
Tobias and several other members of the Steampunk – Shrunk community will be joining the others there within the next few weeks, while Freddy, Josephine and The Angel will remain with those of us who visit craft fairs, steampunk events and miniatures sales.
This is how Tobias looked when he first arrived at Shrunk Towers. I think his name was probably Paul or Richard.
After a bit of Steampunk-Shrunk magic, he ended up looking like this – fine leather coat, hand-stitched black wool trousers, satin waistcoat, cravat and a serious facial makeover.
I’d barely started browsing, when I saw the car in a shop window.
Every spare minute was given over to The Angel during the next three days. Shiny gold and silver nail varnish covered the blotchy detail paintwork. Gold cord trim made the upholstery look neater.
Tobias declared himself satisfied with the result and, pulling down his goggles, climbed back into the driving seat for a photo-shoot.
Steampunk - Shrunk! 