Audubon County Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Audubon Co., Iowa) 1885-1894, 1886-04-08
STORY OF A CLOCK.
BY sEPPERLEE.

=
,bout. A poor boy wandered through
he streets of Germany, saying over and
,ver again: IF / find good job,
promise to wall it with honesty, mortar
with prayer, and roof it with perse-
Terance."
At last he got to the ears of Clock
maker Poltesse, who said: "Serve your
time, Max, and wen see what can be
;urned out of you"
So Max served his time.
Day after day watched him delve st
81, art, and saw his lips move and his
yes fix steadily as if for some unseen
Presence. That was prayer
know mo matter how that often he
'elt himself to be in sort of enigmati-
tal vortex, SO complicated and exquisite
we're all the little mysteries of his art;
despair seemed to seize him ana he
would throw down his tools and weep.
After while he would set to work
again with determined execution that
made the bits of wood fit into place like
revealed puzzle. That was Persever-
ance.
WEAKNESS would seize him; he would
grow disconsolate over the poor pit
lance earned; promise and hope would
absorb him at the prospect of doubling
MS income by sighting his work. But
he lowered in manly scorn of the temp
tation, and became more than ever
iociIe to his art. That was Honesty.
Sometimes a workmate would stop at
ois bench with Il filthy novel This
one he would invariably shake off, and
work with the vim of a blacksmith.
| saw two merry fellows drag him
each by an arm to drink with them.
That reused the lion in him. He
knocked them down.
He became such an adept that l was
put in his hands to be finished, and |
was an intricate job, so Politesse aver
red; and felt sometimes like saying to
Max: "Don't despair; there's a hard
place to everything worth having
saw him one day try so hard to
make the work move in order that he
flung his face down on his hands and
remained so till the veins swelled out
on his forehead. When he looked up 9
bright beam was in his eyes; it was {
cloudy day, too, and all the sunshine
that could be found seemed to be there
on his face.
why" he was saying in a stoler
whisper, and like one who had found ;
pearl at the depths, If God blesses the
work it must be good. Oh, do, do
Oh, do bless it, he reiterated, anc
looked up and up as if his spirit from
height to height ascended still, until the
tears came, shy and covert, like girl S
and that hour was the dawn of his
triumph.
'God surely blessed the work" ru
minated he, rs at last | stood in mon
ument like completion on his bench
friend. "
But wait; let me give you my like
ness.
| was at this time, and am STILL tire,
foot tall. | have large, clean, square
face and strong hands. / have TIVE
iron weights and loud, sweet bell
My pendulum wags across the face o
little German picture published b
"Verlag Druck Seltz Wansdeck.
1t is called Sunday Afternoon" ant
represents two little girls with thei
books and best dresses going to church
The church is in sight, and its gate, a
the end of the wild-howered path
stands open. My frame is of good oil,
flat-topped mahogany, and l have
blooming Easter cross on my door.
Do you like me?
Well, one day a rich lady stepped il
and bought me at sight.
After this my first launch into so
ciety, | changed owners several times
stood on fine curtaned pedestals, will
handsome statues on my head, ant
my bell sounded in marble
halls But. alas! for the nineteenth
century, always humoring that some
thing new which is called progress,
fancy clocks of Romeo poised on ont
foot and holding aloft the time wer,
given my place. ], with my honest ole
face, was moved back farther anC
farther, and so far forgotten at last al
to be thought scarce worth the troubl,
of winding. Remarks of the followin!
nature became familiar:
well, where didyo get old Noah?'
Somewhere in the chaotic past"
what an old whcezer it must be b,
this time. Does it go?'
Eyes, when It's wound"
..And do you not wind it?''
"Oh, bless you, we keep it for mer
associations; it will make capital fire
wood some day."
At the mention of ''firewood' m
recollections returned to poor Max an,
all his hard work on me, and his fait
that because God blessed the work
would ever have q friend.
At last | was passed by my would-b
incendiary into the hands of Fritz, one c
the family servants about to be married
l lived newly polished, and highly ar
preciated with Fritz and his worthy wifi
for many day, and woke him up t
work and daily duty by my loud, faith
full bell.
1t was ever mystery to me, althoug
it might not have been to Fritz, no,
one terrible cold day my hands en-
tangled and my weights refused t
lower; my pendulum wagged in vair
my bell, instead of its loud, silver
swing, gave out limping wheeze, aut
ible only to myself.
Fritz's wife had so relied on me tbs
she sat complaccntly gossiping with tn
coachman's widow across the way unit
dinner time.
DINNER not ready yet?" cried Frit:
striding in amazed, his mittens stiff. h
ears twice their size with the frost, an
icicles crushing his whiskers. .'