The Semi-weekly leader., 1922-01-11
The Old Clock
Maker
by DOROTHY WHITcoMB

(@, 1921, Western Newspaper Union.)
The old clockmaker was seated In
his office, his head upon his hands, his
elbows on his desk, pondering. He oc-
cupied tiny office in an 0ld-fashiOned
part Of New York, downtown, and he
sat there for great part of each day
since he came to America fifty years
before, bringing with him the skill of
twelve generations Of Swiss clock
makers. Walser's clocks never varied
by more than five minutes a year.
Great, old-fashioned grandfather's
clocks they were, and because the
modern fashion Is for cheap and gaudy
things, he sold only to few old-fAsh-
ioned customers, and his whole stock
was stored in the small warehouse and
workshop at the back Of his Office.
And he had driven Ernst, his only
son, his only child, out of his home
forever. Ernst was the last of the
Walsers, and with his action he had
effectively cut himself off from all the
generations that were to come. How
foolish his quarrel had beenl 1t was
about a girl whom Ernst wanted to
marry, and because he had not told
his father all about 1t old Walser had
taken umbrage.
"Who Is she?" he asked angrily.
And Ernst answered that she was a
domestic servant. Then the old mans
anger flared out, for the Walsers
traced their descent from princes and
Walser had mixed so little with his
kind that the old traditions fingered.
Old Walser turned to his son.
He pointed to an old clock which
had licked away the hours minute by
minute ever since he had brought it
to America.
Ernst" he said hoarsely, "that
clock was made by my father for his
serene highness the prince Of Lutter-
ling, Ny father was once engaged to
marry the princes daughter. She died,
but the match was never considered
unequal. The Walsers have been a
proud old family, though they are
clockmakers. And you-you-you are
going to marry servant.
swell, marry her, but from this mo-
ment you are no longer Walser. l
disown you by the memory Of my
father" He pointed still to the time
piece. "When that clock, which my
father made In 1888, goes wrong by as
much as ten minutes in a day, will
ask you to come back to me-" he said.
"Now goI"
And Ernst went.
The old clock never varied by as
much as a minute day. Its melan-
choly tick was wearing the old mans
heart away. He moaned in his misery
as he sat at his desk. How gladly he
would have had his son back, servant
wife and ALL If only he had not been
so hastyl
A good boy, too--Ernst had always
been a good son to him. He swept
his fingers across the glass, and the
clock licked heavily In answer.
And then a wonderful thing hap
pened. A sudden whirring sound was
heard, and the hands began racing
furiously. And then they stopped and
the old clock stood still at half past
four.
That was the precise time at which
Ernst put on his hat and left the
house.
The old man fell back In his chair
and stared in RStoniShment at this
phenomenon.
Presently, when curiosity overcame
his terror, he opened the case and
peered in. And swiftly enough the
cause was revealed. Wedged tightly
into the mechanism was q clockwork
mouse.
Walser drew out the mouse and
looked at it. Years before he had
brought that mouse home for his son
Ernst, in the days when he was baby,
playing about the floor Of the nursery.
The child must have placed his toy
inside the old clock and forgotten all
about it.
Walser rose up solemnly and put on
his hat. He turned to the clock and
his voice was choking with emotion.
II know now," he said, that this is
a Judgment and a miracle in one."
Ten minutes later he arrived at a
dingy, shabby house, and made his
way up to the top floor and knocked.
A comely young woman came to the
door,
"You are" queried Walser.
II am Mrs. Walser," she answered
in a very sweet voice. "You have
business with my husbandT
"You are my sons wife?" shouted
the old man. "Why, thought
thought"
And suddenly he flung his arms
about her and drew her to him and
kissed her. And at the audible sound
Ernst came to the door, looking shab-
by and thin, but with fire In his eye
and fists doubled to repel this assault
upon the sanctity Of his home. See
ing his father he halted dead.
"Come here, my boy" cried the old
man. "It's all forgotten-the clock
ran down. Come with me and I will
tell you all about it."