Rensselaer Republican, Volume 25, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 December 1892 — A TIMELY TALE. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A TIMELY TALE.

Told on Christmas Eve by the Old Clock Most Feelingly.

Christmas Eve the old clock stood in the corner and sang “tick-tock, tick- ! took’ ’until everything else in the, room had gone to sleep everything except the jumping jack. ‘ ‘Tick-tock, ’’said the old clock, and

then it looked right at the jumpingjack and asked: “Why haven’t you gone to sleep, too?’’ “I’m waiting for Santa Claus,” answered the jumping-jack. “Waiting for Santa Claus,” laughed the old clock; why, you don’t suppose that Santa Clans is going to bring you anything, do you?” “I need it bad enough,” said the jumping-jack; “I fell into the wash--basin three weeks ago and by the time I was pulled out and dried I lost all the beautiful red stripes and yellow buttons off my coat, and this left eye of mine faded from a lovely purple into a dirty lavender. 1 have been the sickest jumping-jack in town ever since.” “Oh, phsaw!” said the old clock; “handsome is that handsome does; tick-took! tick-tock!” “Biit I shall be all right in the morning,” said the jumping-jack, - “for my little mistress Bertha put me here by the fire to-day and whispered up the chimney: ‘Please, Santa Claus, bring -a-n&w eye and a new suit of -elothesfor jumping-jack, and please, Banta Claus, bring me a nice big box of candy.’ ” “So you like Bertha, do you?” asked the old clock. “No, not very much,” said the jump-ing-jack; she dropped me. in the washbasin, you know, and then, too, she makes me jump when I don’t want r.o. Last week she pulled me so hard that the string broke.” “Sque-ea-e <-eak!” said another small voico and the littlfe blue mouse peeped out from under the wardrobe. “Sque-ea-ea-eak and I don’t like Bertha either I” she said. “Tick-tock, tick-tock,” said the old clock, ‘and why don’t you like Bertha, ] Mistress Blue Mouse ?” ““She frightens me,” answered the little blue mouse, “and she pets that horrid old cat. No, I could never like a child that keeps such bad company. Depend upon it, no child that keeps company with a cat ever came to any good end—sauo-ea-ea-eak!” Now, while the old clock and the jumping-jack and the little blue mouse talked together, Bertha lay fast asleep in her crib, and the old clock and the jumping-jack and the little bluo mouse were still talking and Bertha was stiff-fast asleep when there came the sound of sleigh bells and then the noise of some one slipping down the chimney. But instead of Santa Claus there came out of the chimney and stood on the hearth a very fat and very sleepylooking boy. He wore fur clothes and a fur cap, and the first thing he did was to yawn. “You’re not Santa Gaus, are you?’’ asked the jumping-jack. “Of course he isrt’t!” said the old clock. “I know Santa Claus, for I’ve seen him twenty times!” “No, I’m Santa Claus’ boy,” said the boy, and he yawned again, for ho wus very sleepy. “What on earth are you doing hero at this time of night?” said the jump-ing-j >ck. “Why, father was so busy,” said the boy, “that he sent me down here with this box of candy and this box of paints. One of them is for—let me see—ho said to give the candy to the jumpingjack, and —no that wasn’t it! lam to paint Bertha—no, I’m sure I don’t remember what he did tell me to do. but here is the candy and here uro • the points!” You see he had forgotten all about what he came for. Wasn’t that just like a boy? Just then a wicked thought camo to the jumping-jack. Ho winked his one eye at the little blue mouse, as much os to say. “You help me out in this story and I’ll make it all right with you.” Then the jumping-jack said to the boy, “I know all about this, and I will tell you what to do. The box of

candy is for me,-and you are to paint Bertha. You’ll find her in the crib over there. Put some red stripes and yellow buttons on her, and don’t forget to give her a new purple left eye." “That’s right," squeaked the little blue mouse. The old clock was so suprised that it could only “tick-tock, tick-toek,” over and over again, and these “tick-tocks’’ were so sad that tears of sorrow filled the eyes of the needles in the workbasket bn the table. The s boy was foolish enough to believe the wicked jumping-jack. So he handed over the box of candy, and then—oh, horrible! —ho went to the crib and painted red Stripes andyollow buttons all over poor little Bertha, and having done that he painted one of her beautiful blue eyes (the left one) an awful purple! Then he tied a string toller And climbed chimney again;

As for got ttfo worst of it, of courie, for there she was all painted up like a jumping-jack, with a big purple left t eye. She couldn’t speak or do anytliing else unless somebody pulled the and she had tostay that way a whola year, until Santa Claus came around himself and fixed things. When Snnta Claus did come he took the evil jumping-jack away with him and changed him into a nut-cracker. So now the evil jumpingjack has-to- wodc harder than ever before, and nobody is a bit sorry, I’m certain. But the old clock sings “tick-tock. tick-tock” just the same as before, and once when I sat listening to this strange music, which will go on long after you and I are done with Christmas times, the old' clock paused in its solemn singing to tell me the story I have just told you, and the old clock knows many other pretty stories which I may sometime repeat