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.
他就象是一种不合情理、然而用起来却颇著成效的、小型而内容丰富的、舍非尔德式的机巧工具，外表——虽然稍微大些——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，而且还有螺旋钻，拔瓶塞用的螺丝锥，镊子，锥子，笔，尺，指甲锉子，山头锥。因此，如果他那些上司想把木匠当螺旋钻用，他们只消打开他身上的那一个部分，就可以旋紧螺丝，或者如果要把他当镊子用，那只消提起他那两条腿，就是一把镊子。
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，这个万能式的、可开可闭的木匠毕竟不完全是一架自动式的机器。如果说他身上并没有普通的灵魂，那他可还有一种总在不规则地起着作用的微妙的东西。然而，那东西究竟是什么，是不是水银精，还是几滴鹿茸精，那可说不上来了。可是，一定有些什么东西，而且一定已经在他身上居留达六十多年了。就是这种东西，他身上这种难解而机灵的生命要素；就是这种东西，这才使他大部分时间都在自言自语；不过，只象是一只不合规律的轮盘，还在独自不停地嗡嗡叫；或者，更正确点说，他的身体就是个岗亭，而这个自言自语者就在那里值班，老在自言自语，使他自己醒着不睡。