"When I woke up
--it wasn't going."
"You wound it?"
"Oh, yes, I wound it right enough."
"What time was it?"
"The clock--or the day, Uncle?" He was confused a little; he wished to
be awfully accurate.
Uncle Felix explained that he desired to know what time the clock had
stopped. The importance of the answer could be judged by the
intentness of his expression while he waited.
"The finger-hands were at four," said the boy at length.
Uncle Felix gave a jump. "Ha, ha!" he exclaimed triumphantly, "then it
stopped of its own accord!" They could have screamed with excitement,
though without the least idea what they were excited about. You could
have heard a butterfly breathing.
"It stopped at dawn!" he continued, louder.
"Dawn!" piped Tim, unable to think of anything else, but obliged to
utter something.
"Dawn, yes," cried Uncle Felix louder still. "It stopped of its own
accord at dawn! Just at the beginning of a new day it stopped! It's
marvellous! Don't you see? It's marvellous!"
"Goodness!" cried Judy, her mind obfuscated, yet thrilled with a
transport of inexplicable delight. "It's marvellous!"
"I say!" Tim shouted, dropping his voice suddenly because he too was
at a loss for any more intelligible relief in words.
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