Woodruff County news. [volume] (McCrory, Ark.) 1901-1910, 1907-12-19

attentions on the evening in question
asking his sister Nellie certain little
question would not be made easier in
any way by having her young broth
er buzzing round offering to regulate
my watch or exhibiting some home
made marvel in the clockWork mouse
line. Master Putlow, l may tell you,
is a prodigy in a mechanical direction.
'Tll have none of him." thought l,
and during the afternoon l sent round,
with my best wishes for happy
Christmas, book calculated to keep
any other nine-year-old boy as quiet
had been dog-eared as black as coal.
In the evening / called round. Mel
lies father and mother were, as /
expected, out on a Santa Claus ex-
cursion to their married daughters.
"Albert's at his book, suppose?" re-
marked, when 1 was asked into the
front room.
NO" said Nellie; hes doing some
thing to a Waterbury watch in the
back Been busy all day. Look there"
pointing to an old-fashioned clock
fixed to the wall. "He unearthed that
from the lumber room three days ago.
1t hasn't been going for ten years,
and he's cleaned it, put it in order,
and fixed it up as surprise for dad.
It's going splendidly.'
OF course, I didn't mind a little bit
about the book not claiming the boys
attention. So long as he was occu-
pied elsewhere l was perfectly salts
fed. We talked about nothing in par
ticular for five minutes; then l braced
myself for the ordeal. Nellie was in
the rocker, and I on the saddlebag
lounge by her side. 1t was then or
never.
Nellie" I whispered, glancing at
my cuff, on which I had penciled my
headings. Nellie, I have long"
"Whirr!"
She looked up, not at me, but at
the clock. Its going to strike" she
said
Bong"
1 decided to wait until the awful
thing had finished. Bong! bong!
bong! bong! bong" At the eighth
stroke 1 gave sigh of relief and
started again.
81 have long"
"Bong!" That's one too many"
said Nellie. What were you say
ing?'
Bong"
I was losing patience with that lum-
Der room find. 1t occasioned me no
surprise that the clock was somewhat
erratic after Master Putlow's atten-
lions, but that is should seize just
that particular time to exhibit it's
vagaries annoyed me. Never mind"
l thought, lit can't strike more than
r."
I had altogether underestimate it's
capacities. When l had counted 81
whirrs and bongs, Nellie started
laughing. I walked to the door and
called to Albert Sidney.
He came, bringing an odor of clock
oil into the room.
Something's the matter with that
clocks striking gear" 1 said, with
forced calmness.
Been strikin' long?" he asked.
That's the thirty ninth time" 1 an
swered, as another "Bong!" set all
the mantel shelf ornaments dancing.
Albert Sidney whistled. Thought
it might go like that" he grinned.
Good clocks often do. 1t hasn't struck
for ten years, you see, and now it
won't stop till it's done all it's back
striking"
Great Jupiter! A lightning calcu-
lation told me that, roughly speaking,
100000 bongs were overdue. At four
to the minute it would be some time
in April before that awful clock was
up-to-date. I'd the choice of yelling
out my proposal, lodging it in be-
tween the strokes, or of waiting for a
more favorable opportunity.
Il think I'll be going" 1 gasped,
deciding on postponement, and on
the seventy-eighth stroke. / shook
hands with Nellie, glared murder at
her brother, and hurried off.
At the bottom of the stairs l stop
ped to shake my fist in the mechani-
cal prodigy's direction.
"You horrid boy!" 1 heard Nellie
say.
A howl came from Albert Sidney.
You're as big chump as he was to
take in that tale about the thing
workin' off its back strikes" he said;
II only fixed it to go like that for a
lark. There! I've stopped it now.
Go and call him back if you want
him"
I fed. The prospect of Master Put
low as a brother-in-laM was too awful