"Well, mother, I am sure I don't know. I couldn't seem to help it: he was
so determined, and the clock was such a beauty. I don't think he is crazy.
I think he is simply very queer; and he is ever, ever so rich. The clock
isn't really of any value to him; that is, he'd never do any thing with
it. He has a huge room half as big as this house, just crammed with
things, all sorts of things, that he took for debts; and this clock was
among them. I think it gave the old man a real pleasure to have me take
it; so that is one more reason for doing it."

"Well, you know best, Mercy," said Mrs. Carr, a little sadly; "but I can't
quite see it's you do. It seems to me amazin' like a charity. I wish he
hadn't never found you out."

"I don't, mother. I believe he is going to be my best crony here," said
Mercy, laughing; "and I'm sure nobody can say any thing ill-natured about
such a crony as he would be. He must be seventy years old, at least."

When Stephen came home that night, he received from his mother a most
graphic account of the arrival of the clock. She had watched the
procession from her window, and had heard the confused sounds of talking
and moving of furniture in the house afterward. Marty also had supplied
some details, she having been surreptitiously overlooking the whole
affair.

"I must say," remarked Mrs. White, "that it looks very queer. Where did
she pick up Old Man Wheeler? Who ever heard of his being seen walking with
a woman before? Even as a young man, he never would have any thing to do
with them; and it was always a marvel how he got married. I used to know
him very well."