Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in .Juno, 1867, by J. W. Burke & Cos., in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the So. District of Georgia. Vol. I. Written for Burke’s Weekly. GRANDMA NICHOLS’ CLOCK. BY CLARA LE CLERC. f WONDER what time it is?” said Grandma Nichols, as she took off her glasses, laid them upon the work stand at her side, and be- Mgan to pull the basting threads LB from the piece of work she had just com pleted. The short winter day was rap idly wearing to a close, and the old lady had strained her fee ble eyes in the uncer tain light, in order to finish the garment upon which she had been diligently en gaged since early dawn. ’Tvvas a pleasant, old-fashioned room. At one side was a great, wide fireplace, with huge andirons. A real Christmas log was wedged in be tween the wide jams, and great forked tongues of flame went leaping up the broad chimney. Four large rosy apples were roasting upon the neatly swept hearth. Upon tho high, old-fashioned mantle was a teapot, a candlestick, a book, and three apples. An old rifle was hang ing above the mantle. A set of swinging shelves for books occupied the wall next to the fireplace. A great eight-day clock, reaching from the floor almost to the ceil ing, came next in order. The portrait of a dark, handsome man hung low upon the wall between the clock and an old time cupboard, which had neatly scoured snelves, and snow-white cups and plates. MACON, GrA., NOVEMBER 2, 1867. Then by the broad window seat, upon which was placed a flower stand contain ing a beautiful rose geranium, and Grand ma’s pincushion also, was seated Grandma herself, in her big old arm chair, with her neat white muslin cap, black bombazine dress, long checked apron, and little white lambs’-wool shawl—which she always wore about her shoulders on cold days. “ It is almost night, I expect,” she mut- tered softly to herself, as she prepared to fold the garment she had just completed, —a litttle white linen apron, with dainty ruffles and lace. “ Don’t you hear Grandma, Harry ? She wants to know what time it is, and you’s bigger than me, so you must tell her.” And little five-year-old Eva gave master Harry a gentle push. They were both down upon the floor before the fire, watching their apples, but master Harry, with all the dignity that a young gentle man of seven can possess, scrambled to his feet and took his stand before the great old clock. Little Eva soon joined him, and the two children stood there, making quite a pretty picture —Eva with her little chubby hands crossed behind her, and Harry with his locked in front of him. At least Grandma thought so, for every now and then she would steal a glance at them over her shoulder, and a smile would light up her wrinkled face. “I sav, Grandma, Harry is going to tell you what time it is,” rang out Eva’s clear, silvery voice. “Very well, my darling, Grandma will played about Grandma's pleasant mouth. “N— o , ma’am, but I can’t tell the long hand from the short one.” “Think about it, my dear; does ten o’clock come this time of the day ? I thought ten came in the morning and at night.” “So it does, so it does!" exclaimed mas ter Harry, rubbing his hands gleefully. “ I never thought of that! G randma, tell us how you ever learned to tell the time of day,” and Harry hastened to his grand mother’s side, followed closely by little Eva. “ Yes, Grandma, do," put in the sweet voice, “ tell us how, for I want to know.” “ Well, well, my pets, let Grandma first INo. 18. be very happy to have her little man tell her the time of day.” “ Well, Grandma, I can’t, to save my life, tell whether it is half after ten or five min utes to six. The old clock is so high up, a fellow can’t see in this dim light!” And master Harry turned his bright lit tle face, with its puz zled expression, full upon Grandma. “Why, are your eyes failing, my boy?” and a funny smile