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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, May 22, 1913, Image 18

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1913-05-22/ed-1/seq-18/

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J THETOY MOUSE
7 ' By Harold Carter.
Theold.cTockmaker was seated in
his office, iis head upon his hands,
his elbows on his desk, pondering. He
occupied a tiny office in an old-fashioned
part of NewTork, downtown,
and he had sat there for a great part
of each day since he came to America
. fifty years before, "bringing with him
the skill of twelve generations of
Swiss clockmakers. Walser's clocks
never varied by more than five min-
il I IB wmutfM
pnprr
Shook His Fist at the Old Clock.
utes 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 a few old-fashioned customers,
and his whole stodk was stored in
the small warehouse and workshop
at the back of his office. But he had
hoped to hand down the business to
his successors yes, he had hoped
that the tradition would not die, out
with him-
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 has been! It
was about a girl whom Ernst wanted
to marry, and because he had not
told his father all about it old Walser
had taken umbrage.
"Who is she?" he asked angrily.
And Ernst answered that she was a
domestic servant. Then the old man's
anger flared out, for the Walsers
traced their descent from princes and
Walser had mixed so little with his
kind that the old traditions lingered.
If he had been less angry and Ernst
less proud he would have learned
that Elsa was studying social science
and. had taken her position for rea
sons which certainly were no dis
credit to her. But the embittered old
man was not in any mood to listen
to reason, nor Ernst to explain. Old
Walser turned to his son.
He pointed to an old clock which
had ticked 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. My father was once engaged to
"marry the prince's daughter. She
died, but the match was never con
sidered unequal. The Walsers have
been a proud old family though they
were clockmakers. And you you
you are going to marry a servant
. "Well, marry her, but from this
moment you are no longer a Walser.
I disown you by the memory of my
father." He pointed still to the time-,
piece. "When that clock, which my
father made in 1833, goes wrong by
as much as ten minutes in a day, I
will ask you to come back to me," he
said. "Now go!"
And Ernst went.
The old tfoclt never varied by as,
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