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He was like one of those unreasoning but still highly useful, multum in parvo, Sheffield contrivances, assuming the exterior— though a little swelled—of a common pocket knife; but containing, not only blades of various sizes, but also screw-drivers, cork-screws, tweezers, awls, pens, rulers, nail-filers, countersinkers. So, if his superiors wanted to use the carpenter for a screw-driver, all they had to do was to open that part of him, and the screw was fast: or if for tweezers, take him up by the legs, and there they were.
他就象是一種不合情理、然而用起來卻頗著成效的、小型而內容豐富的、舍非爾德式的機巧工具，外表——雖然稍微大些——象是一柄普通的小刀子；可是，那里面不但有大小不同的刀刃，而且還有螺旋鉆，拔瓶塞用的螺絲錐，鑷子，錐子，筆，尺，指甲銼子，山頭錐。因此，如果他那些上司想把木匠當螺旋鉆用，他們只消打開他身上的那一個部分，就可以旋緊螺絲，或者如果要把他當鑷子用，那只消提起他那兩條腿，就是一把鑷子。
Yet, as previously hinted, this omnitooled, open-and-shut carpenter, was, after all, no mere machine of an automaton. If he did not have a common soul in him, he had a subtle something that somehow anomalously did its duty. What that was, whether essence of quicksilver, or a few drops of hartshorn, there is no telling. But there it was; and there it had abided for now some sixty years or more. And this it was, this same unaccountable, cunning life-principle in him; this it was, that kept him a great part of the time soliloquizing; but only like an unreasoning wheel, which also hummingly soliloquizes; or rather, his body was a sentry-box and this soliloquizer on guard there, and talking all the time to keep himself awake.
然而，如上所述，這個萬能式的、可開可閉的木匠畢竟不完全是一架自動式的機器。如果說他身上并沒有普通的靈魂，那他可還有一種總在不規則地起著作用的微妙的東西。然而，那東西究竟是什么，是不是水銀精，還是幾滴鹿茸精，那可說不上來了。可是，一定有些什么東西，而且一定已經在他身上居留達六十多年了。就是這種東西，他身上這種難解而機靈的生命要素；就是這種東西，這才使他大部分時間都在自言自語；不過，只象是一只不合規律的輪盤，還在獨自不停地嗡嗡叫；或者，更正確點說，他的身體就是個崗亭，而這個自言自語者就在那里值班，老在自言自語，使他自己醒著不睡。
