The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1882-08-18
"THE MINUTE.HAND OF THE
CLOCK."*
A German Boys Adventure.

A German Boys Adventure.
"Kaspar, thou little rogue, how otter
shall tell thee not to NEEDLE with tina
clock?'
II was only watching the wheels &C
round. father" said a sturdy little fell
low in soiled leathern jacket, starting
up with a misch;evous look in his blue
eyes
"And what hast thou to do with the
wheels, Ell? Suppose this clock is
stopped or pat wrong some day by one
of thy tricks. what shall l, Hans Schell.
er, custodian of St. Martins Church,
say to the Town Council? Dost thou
know what birch porridge is, thou
rogue? Beware, or III give thee such a
taste of it as shall make thee 60 round
faster than the wheels"
Poor Hans was, indeed, kept in con-
slant terror by his inquiring sons I'M
coltrollable habit of going wherever he
ought not. The old Church of st. Mart
In was famous play aground for any
boy, with its shadowy aisles, and count
less pillars, and tall towers. and deep
inches, and half-ruined battiements; and
the worthy custodian, when he awoke
from his after-dinner nap in his little
room at the foot of the great clock tow
er, never knew whether he should find
his hopeful boy hiding behind the altar
screen, trying to blow the organ bel
lows, playing hide-and-seek among the
pinnacles of the roof, or sitting astride
of carved spout hundred and sixty
feet above the pavement.
All this, however, might have been
forgiven, for the old custodian was
really as fond of his "little rogue" as
the boy, with al his wildness, was of
him. But the one thing that Hans
coul no: pardon was lie danger caused
by lis sons restless inquisitiveness to
his beloved church clock. 1t was his
pride and glory to be able to tell every
one that during the whole forty years
that he had been in charge of the est.
Martins Kirche," the clock had never
stopped or gone wrong; and nothing
would convince him that it was not by
far the finest clock in the whole world.
Don't tell me of the big clock of
Strasburg Cathedral" he would say,
with an obstinate shake of his gray head.
"Could IL go forty years on end, think
you, without the slightest deviation?
No. that it couldn't, nor any other
clock on the face of the earth except
Ills one."
Mindful of Kaspar's inquiring turn
of mind, his father, having to do some
marketing in the town the day after
our hero's stolen visit to the clock,
locked the door of the tower, and took
the key along with him.
"No harm can happen now" he
muttered; "and, in any case, l shall be
back before he gets out of school,"
But, as ill-luck would have it, the
teacher was called away by some bust
ness that afternoon, and the boys got
out of school more than an hour earlier
than usual. Kaspar, finding his father
gone, went straight to the door of the
clock tower, and looked rather blank
on discovering that it was locked. But
he was not one to be easily stopped
when he had once made up his mind.
Getting out upon the roof, and crawling
along a cornice where only cat OF q
school-boy could have found footing,
he crept through an air-hole right into
the clock-room.
For some time he was as happy as a
child in a toy shop, running from one
marvel to another, until at length he
discovered another hole, and thrusting
his head through it, found himself look
ngdown upon the market-place through
the face of the clock itself. But when
he tried to withdraw his head again, it
would not come.
1t was such a queer scrape to be in
that Kaspar was more inclined to laugh
than to be frightened; but suddenly
thought struck him which scared him
in earnest: his neck was in the track of
the minute-hand, which, when it
reached him, must inevitably tear his
head Off
Poor Kaspar! it was too late now to
wish that he had left the clock alone.
He tried to scream for help, but with
his neck in that cramped position, the
cry that he gave was scarcely louder
than the chirp of sparrow. He strug-
gled desperately to writhe himself back
through the hole; but q piece of til
woodwork had slipped down upon the
back of his neck, and held him like a
wise.
On came the destroyer, nearer and
nearer still, marking off with its meas
ured tick his few remaining moments
of life. And all the while the sun was
shining gayly, the tiny flags were fut-
tering on the booths of the market, and
the merry voices of his school-fellows
who were playing in the market-place
came family to his ears, while he hung |
there helpless, with Death stealing upon |
him inch by inch. His head grew dir
zy, and the measured beat of the tick !
ing sounded like the roll of muffled |
drum, while the coming hand of tho
clock looked like a monstrous arm out
to seize him, and the carved |
faces on the spouts seemed to grin and
gibber at him in mockery. And still |
the terrible hand crept onward, nearer,
nearer, nearer.
"What can that thing in the clock |
face be?" said tourist below, pointing
his spy-glass upward. "Why, l declare |
it looks like boys headr'
"a boys head" cried a gray haired |
matchmaker beside him Zone of Hans