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138 put away Miss Eva’s pretty new apron; see that Phillis is getting supper, and then she’ll be ready to tell you how she learned to tell the time of day.” “ Tell Phillis to make fat biscuits to night, Grandma,” called little Eva, as Grandma passed into the next room, open ed the drawer to an old-fashioned, but neatly-kept bureau, and placed therein Miss Eva’s pretty little apron ; and then opening another door, which led into a neatly-kept kitchen, she gave some direc tions to the good-natured-looking negro woman, who was putting large fat bis cuits into an oven at a great roaring fire. “ That’s right, Phillis,” laughed Grand ma; “your Miss Eva wants fat biscuits to-night.” “Bless her little heart! she shall have um,” replied Phillis, good-naturedly. “ Now, Grandma, for the story !” shout ed Harry and Eva in a breath, as she opened the door. “ See, we have rolled your big chair up before the fire, our ap ples are done, and we can have a good time,” said Master Harry. “Mayn’t we have sugar on ’em, Grand ma?” whispered Eva, climbing upon her grandmother’s knee, as the old lady seat ed herself in her chair. “Certainly, my darling, you shall have just as much sugar as you want,” and get ting up, Grandma went to the cupboard, and took from one of the upper shelves an “old-time” China sugar bow!, with heavy gilt bands, and flowers and birds on it; also a plate of more recent date, a knife, and several heavy, old-fashioned silver spoons, with « Nichols ” engraved upon the handles. “ Get your stools, children. Now, then, we are all ready,” concluded the old lady, as Harry and Eva placed a stool upon either side of her chair, and looked up smilingly into her face. “Now, Grandma!” said Eva, as she smoothed down her apron with her little chubby hands. And, “Now, Grandma!” exclaimed Har ry, as he drew the last apple from its hot resting place upon the hearth, and pre pared to peel them. “I'U pee l the apples while you talk.” Taking her knitting from the little bag which hung in the chimney corner, Grand ma commenced her story : “When I was a little girl, no larger than Eva, I heard my father talking to my mother one day about getting a clock, as he had no time-piece except his great o and silver watch, which was as large al most as a saucer. “ A few days after this conversation, he went to town, and in the evening return, ed with a large eight-day clock in his BURKE’S WEEKLY. wagon —the same old clock which stands there now, dear children. As I was an only child, I was alone a great deal, and spent the greater portion of my time out in the yard—in the sunshine, if it was cold weather, and in the shade, if it was warm —crooning old nursery songs for my big rag doll, and never feeling lonely, or wish ing for other company. When the wagon drove up to the gate, I was seated in my little chair, under a great lilac bush, with dolly in my arms, rocking and singing as usual. “As I saw the men prepare to lift the great monster from the wagon, I dropped dolly, and running to my father, asked him what it was ? “ ‘Why, it is a clock , Pussy,’ he answer ed, chucking me under the chin. “ ‘A clock! why, father, it’s ever so much bigger than your watch!' I exclaimed. “At this he laughed heartily, and turn ing to the men, directed them to take it in “the front room to the left,” and into this very room they brought it, and here it has stood ever since I was a very little girl. Every time I would hear the pecu liar whir it makes just before striking, I’d take my stand before it, and watch it with the greatest interest. But 1 cannot express my delight when my father per mitted me to look on at the “ winding up.” He would unlock the door, and I would watch with breathless attention the going up of the great weights. “ ‘Mary,’ he said to me one day, ‘ can you tell the time of day yet?’ “ ‘No, sir,’ I answered. “ ‘Well, you are quite large enough, and if you will learn to tell the time while I’m at the mill to-day, I’ll get you a pair of those pretty red shoes you are so anxious for, the very next time I go to town.’ “He then took a slate that I sometimes used to draw dogs, and pigs, and hens up on, and drawing a large circle on it—just such as you draw, Harry, when you and Eva want to play marbles—he commen ced, and placed the figures round the cir cle, leaving five little dots between each one those he left for the minutes. He then drew two marks for the hour hand and minute hand, making one just a little longer than the other, which he told me was the minute hand. He then told me to look at the clock on my slate and then at the clock standing before me, and tell him if they were alike. I answered that they seemed so to me. He explained, that while the minute hand went round the circle, the hour hand traveled over but one little space from one figure to an other; that when the minute hand point ed to twelve, the hour hand always point ed to the hour of the day. “He further explained, that when the minute hand pointed to such and such a figure, it was so many minutes past one hour, or before another. For instance the long hand is now at the figure eleven what time is it, Harry?” “ Five minutes to seven. It has been just one hour since you asked me what time it was.” “That is right, my son,” continued Grandma. “ Well, my father went to the mill, and mother was first here and then there, in and out, paying very little at tention to me, but a great deal to her household affairs. I drew my stool in front of the clock and watched alternate ly the clock and slate. Every time the clock would strike, I would draw a min ute hand at twelve, and an hour hand at whatever hour the short hand pointed. As the clock struck twelve, I drew a lorm sigh of mingled relief and satisfaction. “ ‘Well, Pet, can you tell the time of day now ?’ exclaimed my father’s voice close by. I looked around, and he was standing behind me, with a merry smile on his pleasant face. “Yes, father, I think I can.” “ That was Tuesday. lie ahvays went to town on Friday, and from Tuesday un til Friday morning, he sent me to “see what time” it v T as no less than a hundred times. But I stood the test very well, and of course obtained the pretty red shoes, which I wore with great pride and satisfaction.” “ Won’t you fix my slate so, to-morrow, Grandma, and let me learn to tell the time of day ?” asked little Eva. “ Your pa gave the old clock to you, didn’t he, Grandma?” questioned Harry. “ Yes, dear, as I was the only child, everything, at my parents’ death, came to me. Even my grandfather’s old rifle, that ahvays hangs over the mantle. He used that old rifle in the He volutionary war, and when he was found dead he had it still grasped in his hand.” “And our poor papa was killed in the Confederate army. Poor, dear papa, in Heaven with the angels and dear mam ma,” whispered little Harry, as his bright tear-filled eyes turned to the portrait on the wall. “Grandma, to-morrow won’t you show us dear papa’s sword and belt, with C. S. A. on it ?” murmured little Eva, tremu lously. “Yes, darling,” replied the old lady, as she folded her arms about her two orphan grandchildren. which is most valuable, is most trifled with.