Part 18 (1/2)

So here we are, said Jonathan, entirely without the time of day.

But plenty of real time all round us, I said. Lets use it, and start.

I avoided Jonathans eye.

We reached the station with an hour and ten minutes to sparebought more ginger-cookies and more milk. As we sat eating them in the midst of the preternatural calm that marks a country railroad station outside of train times, Molly remarked brightly,

Well, I dont see but we got on just as well without a watch, didnt we, Jack? Why do we need watches, anyway? Do _you_ see? she turned to us.

Jack does everything by his watcheats and breathes and sleeps by it

Jack returned, watch in handhe had been getting railroad time from the telegraph operator. Want to set yours while you think of it? he asked Jonathan.

Sorrythank youdidnt bring it, said Jonathan.

By George, man, whatll you do? Real consternation sounded in Jacks tones.

Oh, well get along somehow, said Jonathan. You see, we dont have many engagements, except with the ba.s.s, and they never meet theirs, anyhow.

When the train had gone, I said, Jonathan, why didnt you tell them it was my whim?

Oh, I just didnt, said Jonathan.

As Jonathan had predicted, we did get along somehowgot along rather well, on the whole. There are, of course, some drawbacks to an unwatched life.

You never want to start the next meal till you are hungry, and after that it takes one or two or three hours, as the case may be, to go back to camp and get the meal ready, and by that time you are almost hungrier than you like being. But except for this, and the little matter of meeting trains, it is rather pleasant to break away from the habit of watching the watch, and it was with real regret that, on the last night of our camp, we took our watch to the farmhouse to set it.

Run down, did it? Guess you forgot to wind it. Wellwe do forget things sometimes, all of us do, the farmers wife said comfortingly as she went to look at the clock. Twenty minutes to seven, our clock says. Its apt to be fast, so I guess you wont miss any trains. Father he says hed rather have a clock fast than slow any day, but it dont often get more than ten minutes wrong either way.

And to us, after our two weeks of camp, ten minutes error in a clock seemed indeed slight.

Jonathan, I said, as we walked back along the road, I hate to go back to clock time. I like real time better.

You couldnt do so many things in a day, said Jonathan.

Nomaybe not.

But maybe that wouldnt matter.

Maybe it wouldnt, I said.

VIII

The Ways of Griselda

Of course you dont know what her name is, I said, as we stood examining the sleek little black mare Jonathan had just brought up from the city.

No. Forgot to ask. Dont believe theyd have known anywayone of a hundred or so.