Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1886-09-23
THE BOYS AND THEIR QUEER CLOCK.
Giving Lover a Hint as to the Time of the
Night.
Chicago Herald.

Night.
Chicago Herald.
It was not until fathers patience had
ceased to be polite virtue that Fred and
I decided that we should carry out our
plan.
He had said that so many times at
breakfast lust as he laid down the cary
ing knife and after he had waited on US
all:
''Flora, my daughter, 10 o'clock is late
enough for any young man to stay on an
evening call"
And Flora had so often looked up i'm
ploringIy, her beautiful face on fire, and
said:
''Why, papa, how can help it?"
To this defensive inquiry father would
not deign to reply, while mother, Aunt
Elizabeth, and we boys maintained pro-
found silence, each doubtless bordering
how the difficult question might be solv-
ed.
Roger Pettijohn was a sophomore in
the college town in which we lived. He
''Ied his Glass;" was the son of his father
Judge Pettijohn, and a general favorite
with the young people. Fred and [
rather liked him; his boats were always
at our service, and it was one of our
choicest pleasures to spend an hour in his
study which he had fitted up in one of the
college dormitories, to she with the boys"
There was no end of curious things there,
for Roger was not a mere dig" but an
enthusiastic student of nature, and a
famous good pitcher in the college nine.
Besides well stocked aquarium and a
large collection of stuffed birds, his room
was decked out with fencing foils, patent
oil e
antlers sent him from Texas, and a good
many things that would interest US
boys.
But the one drawback to our enjoyment
of Roger Pettijohn was that he came to
see our sister Flora, not less than three
evenings in a week, and the town clock
usually struck eleven as he went whistlIng
hOneward.
Not that we boys or the household were
at all put out by his long calls. Weneyer
heard anything from the parlOr, save the
subdued murmur of talking or reading,
and now and then the melodious tones of
piano or flute. But it was one of our lit
tie domestic secrets that Flora was work
ing for the valedictOra in her class at the
academy, and we all knew she could take
it if she could get time to study at home.
But with all the numberless housekeeping
duties which she took upon herself, there
was often not much of a study hour left
her.
So Roger Pettiiohn's calls, enjoyable as
they might be, were not so cordially
thought of or mentioned in the family
circle as they would have been had they
been fewer or shorter.
All this accounts for the plan which
Fred and determined to carry out.
We said that Roger Pettijohn should
be made aware of the flight of time, if
such thing were possible.
1t was several days aefore we hit upon
a scheme that suited US.
Any number of rude Jokes that might
easily be worked out came to our minds,
but we were not sure we should enjoy rude
jokes ourselves.
One day at school Fred looked up
from his algebra with a peculiar grin.
In few minutes | saw a note working its
way from his desk toward me. At last it
came, and eagerly opened 1T almost in
plain sight of the argus eyed Mr.. Winter,
who, we thought, spent more of his time
in prohibiting "evil communications"
than in in explaining equations and Ill
constituting our difficult Latin Sentences
"Fred's note was as follows:
Give got it! You know the old clock !?
Well, I'll make it strike p. so hard he'll
understand. Don't forget it. More lat
er."
| hardly understood; but I gave my
assent without hesitation to Fred's plan,
whatever it might be; for he had what
we boys call "a long head and a safe
heel"
Am0ng the treasures in our workshop
was a worn out clock. The old time
piece had come down from another gen
Grafton, and had been in its day quite
valuable; but in the days when Roger
Pettijohn came to see our sister Flora,
an old fashioned tall clock was not so
highly priced az now. Bric-a brac hunt
ing was an unknown mania, and a clock
that would not tell the time of day, no
matter how ancient and honorable its
history, was well out of the way in a boys
workshop.
sThis old clock Fred and I had taken to
pieces and put together again times with
out number, in the hope of making it
keep time so that we could put it in our
room, Sometimes it would go nicely for
several hours, and then some unlucky
pinion would slip its place, the pendulum
would slowly come to a standstill, and the
pituous, patient-looking old face
would stare at us as if in blank disap-
peintment at being left behind in the
march of time. But, worn out and use
less as it was as time-keeper, it could
strike as loudly and boldly as in its
younger days, and we had no small
amount of fun in turning the