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diff --git a/old/jjclk10.txt b/old/jjclk10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8559d28 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/jjclk10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,793 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Clocks, by Jerome K. Jerome +(#3 in our series by Jerome K. Jerome) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Clocks + +Author: Jerome K. Jerome + +Release Date: March, 1997 [EBook #855] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on November 28, 2002] +[Most recently updated: November 28, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, CLOCKS *** + + + + +Scanned and proofed by Ron Burkey (rburkey@heads-up.com) and Amy +Thomte, from a volume entitled "Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow", +published by A. L. Burt. + +Notes on the editing of this text: + +1. Italicized phrases are delimited by the underline character ("_"). +2. Hyphens have been left in the text only where it was the clear +intention of the author. For example, throughout the text, "tonight" +and "tomorrow" appear as "to-night" and "to-morrow". This is +intentional, and is not simply a legacy of words having been broken +across lines in the printed text. +3. The pound (currency) symbol has been replaced by the word +"pounds". + + + + +CLOCKS. + +There are two kinds of clocks. There is the clock that is always +wrong, and that knows it is wrong, and glories in it; and there is the +clock that is always right--except when you rely upon it, and then it +is more wrong than you would think a clock _could_ be in a civilized +country. + +I remember a clock of this latter type, that we had in the house when +I was a boy, routing us all up at three o'clock one winter's morning. +We had finished breakfast at ten minutes to four, and I got to school +a little after five, and sat down on the step outside and cried, +because I thought the world had come to an end; everything was so +death-like! + +The man who can live in the same house with one of these clocks, and +not endanger his chance of heaven about once a month by standing up +and telling it what he thinks of it, is either a dangerous rival to +that old established firm, Job, or else he does not know enough bad +language to make it worth his while to start saying anything at all. + +The great dream of its life is to lure you on into trying to catch a +train by it. For weeks and weeks it will keep the most perfect time. +If there were any difference in time between that clock and the sun, +you would be convinced it was the sun, not the clock, that wanted +seeing to. You feel that if that clock happened to get a quarter of a +second fast, or the eighth of an instant slow, it would break its +heart and die. + +It is in this spirit of child-like faith in its integrity that, one +morning, you gather your family around you in the passage, kiss your +children, and afterward wipe your jammy mouth, poke your finger in the +baby's eye, promise not to forget to order the coals, wave at last +fond adieu with the umbrella, and depart for the railway-station. + +I never have been quite able to decide, myself, which is the more +irritating to run two miles at the top of your speed, and then to +find, when you reach the station, that you are three-quarters of an +hour too early; or to stroll along leisurely the whole way, and dawdle +about outside the booking-office, talking to some local idiot, and +then to swagger carelessly on to the platform, just in time to see the +train go out! + +As for the other class of clocks--the common or always-wrong +clocks--they are harmless enough. You wind them up at the proper +intervals, and once or twice a week you put them right and "regulate" +them, as you call it (and you might just as well try to "regulate" a +London tom-cat). But you do all this, not from any selfish motives, +but from a sense of duty to the clock itself. You want to feel that, +whatever may happen, you have done the right thing by it, and that no +blame can attach to you. + +So far as looking to it for any return is concerned, that you never +dream of doing, and consequently you are not disappointed. You ask +what the time is, and the girl replies: + +"Well, the clock in the dining-room says a quarter past two." + +But you are not deceived by this. You know that, as a matter of fact, +it must be somewhere between nine and ten in the evening; and, +remembering that you noticed, as a curious circumstance, that the +clock was only forty minutes past four, hours ago, you mildly admire +its energies and resources, and wonder how it does it. + +I myself possess a clock that for complicated unconventionality and +light-hearted independence, could, I should think, give points to +anything yet discovered in the chronometrical line. As a mere +time-piece, it leaves much to be desired; but, considered as a +self-acting conundrum, it is full of interest and variety. + +I heard of a man once who had a clock that he used to say was of no +good to any one except himself, because he was the only man who +understood it. He said it was an excellent clock, and one that you +could thoroughly depend upon; but you wanted to know it--to have +studied its system. An outsider might be easily misled by it. + +"For instance," he would say, "when it strikes fifteen, and the hands +point to twenty minutes past eleven, I know it is a quarter to eight." + +His acquaintanceship with that clock must certainly have given him an +advantage over the cursory observer! + +But the great charm about my clock is its reliable uncertainty. It +works on no method whatever; it is a pure emotionalist. One day it +will be quite frolicsome, and gain three hours in the course of the +morning, and think nothing of it; and the next day it will wish it +were dead, and be hardly able to drag itself along, and lose two hours +out of every four, and stop altogether in the afternoon, too miserable +to do anything; and then, getting cheerful once more toward evening, +will start off again of its own accord. + +I do not care to talk much about this clock; because when I tell the +simple truth concerning it, people think I am exaggerating. + +It is very discouraging to find, when you are straining every nerve to +tell the truth, that people do not believe you, and fancy that you are +exaggerating. It makes you feel inclined to go and exaggerate on +purpose, just to show them the difference. I know I often feel +tempted to do so myself--it is my early training that saves me. + +We should always be very careful never to give way to exaggeration; it +is a habit that grows upon one. + +And it is such a vulgar habit, too. In the old times, when poets and +dry-goods salesmen were the only people who exaggerated, there was +something clever and _distingue_ about a reputation for "a tendency to +over, rather than to under-estimate the mere bald facts." But +everybody exaggerates nowadays. The art of exaggeration is no longer +regarded as an "extra" in the modern bill of education; it is an +essential requirement, held to be most needful for the battle of life. + +The whole world exaggerates. It exaggerates everything, from the +yearly number of bicycles sold to the yearly number of heathens +converted--into the hope of salvation and more whiskey. Exaggeration +is the basis of our trade, the fallow-field of our art and literature, +the groundwork of our social life, the foundation of our political +existence. As schoolboys, we exaggerate our fights and our marks and +our fathers' debts. As men, we exaggerate our wares, we exaggerate +our feelings, we exaggerate our incomes--except to the tax-collector, +and to him we exaggerate our "outgoings"; we exaggerate our virtues; +we even exaggerate our vices, and, being in reality the mildest of +men, pretend we are dare-devil scamps. + +We have sunk so low now that we try to _act_ our exaggerations, and to +live up to our lies. We call it "keeping up appearances;" and no more +bitter phrase could, perhaps, have been invented to describe our +childish folly. + +If we possess a hundred pounds a year, do we not call it two? Our +larder may be low and our grates be chill, but we are happy if the +"world" (six acquaintances and a prying neighbor) gives us credit for +one hundred and fifty. And, when we have five hundred, we talk of a +thousand, and the all-important and beloved "world" (sixteen friends +now, and two of them carriage-folks!) agree that we really must be +spending seven hundred, or at all events, running into debt up to that +figure; but the butcher and baker, who have gone into the matter with +the housemaid, know better. + +After awhile, having learned the trick, we launch out boldly and spend +like Indian Princes--or rather _seem_ to spend; for we know, by this +time, how to purchase the seeming with the seeming, how to buy the +appearance of wealth with the appearance of cash. And the dear old +world--Beelzebub bless it! for it is his own child, sure enough; there +is no mistaking the likeness, it has all his funny little +ways--gathers round, applauding and laughing at the lie, and sharing +in the cheat, and gloating over the thought of the blow that it knows +must sooner or later fall on us from the Thor-like hammer of Truth. + +And all goes merry as a witches' frolic--until the gray morning dawns. + +Truth and fact are old-fashioned and out-of-date, my friends, fit only +for the dull and vulgar to live by. Appearance, not reality, is what +the clever dog grasps at in these clever days. We spurn the +dull-brown solid earth; we build our lives and homes in the +fair-seeming rainbow-land of shadow and chimera. + +To ourselves, sleeping and waking there, _behind_ the rainbow, there +is no beauty in the house; only a chill damp mist in every room, and, +over all, a haunting fear of the hour when the gilded clouds will melt +away, and let us fall--somewhat heavily, no doubt--upon the hard world +underneath. + +But, there! of what matter is _our_ misery, _our_ terror? To the +stranger, our home appears fair and bright. The workers in the fields +below look up and envy us our abode of glory and delight! If _they_ +think it pleasant, surely _we_ should be content. Have we not been +taught to live for others and not for ourselves, and are we not acting +up bravely to the teaching--in this most curious method? + +Ah! yes, we are self-sacrificing enough, and loyal enough in our +devotion to this new-crowned king, the child of Prince Imposture and +Princess Pretense. Never before was despot so blindly worshiped! +Never had earthly sovereign yet such world-wide sway! + +Man, if he would live, _must_ worship. He looks around, and what to +him, within the vision of his life, is the greatest and the best, that +he falls down and does reverence to. To him whose eyes have opened on +the nineteenth century, what nobler image can the universe produce +than the figure of Falsehood in stolen robes? It is cunning and +brazen and hollow-hearted, and it realizes his souls ideal, and he +falls and kisses its feet, and clings to its skinny knees, swearing +fealty to it for evermore! + +Ah! he is a mighty monarch, bladder-bodied King Humbug! Come, let us +build up temples of hewn shadows wherein we may adore him, safe from +the light. Let us raise him aloft upon our Brummagem shields. Long +live our coward, falsehearted chief!--fit leader for such soldiers as +we! Long live the Lord-of-Lies, anointed! Long live poor King +Appearances, to whom all mankind bows the knee! + +But we must hold him aloft very carefully, oh, my brother warriors! +He needs much "keeping up." He has no bones and sinews of his own, +the poor old flimsy fellow! If we take our hands from him, he will +fall a heap of worn-out rags, and the angry wind will whirl him away, +and leave us forlorn. Oh, let us spend our lives keeping him up, and +serving him, and making him great--that is, evermore puffed out with +air and nothingness--until he burst, and we along with him! + +Burst one day he must, as it is in the nature of bubbles to burst, +especially when they grow big. Meanwhile, he still reigns over us, +and the world grows more and more a world of pretense and exaggeration +and lies; and he who pretends and exaggerates and lies the most +successfully, is the greatest of us all. + +The world is a gingerbread fair, and we all stand outside our booths +and point to the gorgeous-colored pictures, and beat the big drum and +brag. Brag! brag! Life is one great game of brag! + +"Buy my soap, oh ye people, and ye will never look old, and the hair +will grow again on your bald places, and ye will never be poor or +unhappy again,; and mine is the only true soap. Oh, beware of +spurious imitations!" + +"Buy my lotion, all ye that suffer from pains in the head, or the +stomach, or the feet, or that have broken arms, or broken hearts, or +objectionable mothers-in-law; and drink one bottle a day, and all your +troubles will be ended." + +"Come to my church, all ye that want to go to Heaven, and buy my penny +weekly guide, and pay my pew-rates; and, pray ye, have nothing to do +with my misguided brother over the road. _This_ is the only safe +way!" + +"Oh, vote for me, my noble and intelligent electors, and send our +party into power, and the world shall be a new place, and there shall +be no sin or sorrow any more! And each free and independent voter +shall have a bran new Utopia made on purpose for him, according to his +own ideas, with a good-sized, extra-unpleasant purgatory attached, to +which he can send everybody he does not like. Oh! do not miss this +chance!" + +Oh! listen to my philosophy, it is the best and deepest. Oh! hear my +songs, they are the sweetest. Oh! buy my pictures, they alone are +true art. Oh! read my books, they are the finest. + +Oh! _I_ am the greatest cheesemonger, _I_ am the greatest soldier, _I_ +am the greatest statesman, _I_ am the greatest poet, _I_ am the +greatest showman, _I_ am the greatest mountebank, _I_am the greatest +editor, and _I_ am the greatest patriot. _We_ are the greatest +nation. _We_ are the only good people. _Ours_ is the only true +religion. Bah! how we all yell! + +How we all brag and bounce, and beat the drum and shout; and nobody +believes a word we utter; and the people ask one another, saying: + +"How can we tell who is the greatest and the cleverest among all these +shrieking braggarts?" + +And they answer: + +"There is none great or clever. The great and clever men are not +here; there is no place for them in this pandemonium of charlatans and +quacks. The men you see here are crowing cocks. We suppose the +greatest and the best of _them_ are they who crow the loudest and the +longest; that is the only test of _their_ merits." + +Therefore, what is left for us to do, but to crow? And the best and +greatest of us all, is he who crows the loudest and the longest on +this little dunghill that we call our world! + +Well, I was going to tell you about our clock. + +It was my wife's idea, getting it, in the first instance. We had been +to dinner at the Buggles', and Buggles had just bought a +clock--"picked it up in Essex," was the way he described the +transaction. Buggles is always going about "picking up" things. He +will stand before an old carved bedstead, weighing about three tons, +and say: + +"Yes--pretty little thing! I picked it up in Holland;" as though he +had found it by the roadside, and slipped it into his umbrella when +nobody was looking! + +Buggles was rather full of this clock. It was of the good +old-fashioned "grandfather" type. It stood eight feet high, in a +carved-oak case, and had a deep, sonorous, solemn tick, that made a +pleasant accompaniment to the after-dinner chat, and seemed to fill +the room with an air of homely dignity. + +We discussed the clock, and Buggles said how he loved the sound of its +slow, grave tick; and how, when all the house was still, and he and it +were sitting up alone together, it seemed like some wise old friend +talking to him, and telling him about the old days and the old ways of +thought, and the old life and the old people. + +The clock impressed my wife very much. She was very thoughtful all +the way home, and, as we went upstairs to our flat, she said, "Why +could not we have a clock like that?" She said it would seem like +having some one in the house to take care of us all--she should fancy +it was looking after baby! + +I have a man in Northamptonshire from whom I buy old furniture now and +then, and to him I applied. He answered by return to say that he had +got exactly the very thing I wanted. (He always has. I am very lucky +in this respect.) It was the quaintest and most old-fashioned clock +he had come across for a long while, and he enclosed photograph and +full particulars; should he send it up? + +From the photograph and the particulars, it seemed, as he said, the +very thing, and I told him, "Yes; send it up at once." + +Three days afterward, there came a knock at the door--there had been +other knocks at the door before this, of course; but I am dealing +merely with the history of the clock. The girl said a couple of men +were outside, and wanted to see me, and I went to them. + +I found they were Pickford's carriers, and glancing at the way-bill, I +saw that it was my clock that they had brought, and I said, airily, +"Oh, yes, it's quite right; bring it up!" + +They said they were very sorry, but that was just the difficulty. +They could not get it up. + +I went down with them, and wedged securely across the second landing +of the staircase, I found a box which I should have judged to be the +original case in which Cleopatra's Needle came over. + +They said that was my clock. + +I brought down a chopper and a crowbar, and we sent out and collected +in two extra hired ruffians and the five of us worked away for half an +hour and got the clock out; after which the traffic up and down the +staircase was resumed, much to the satisfaction of the other tenants. + +We then got the clock upstairs and put it together, and I fixed it in +the corner of the dining-room. + +At first it exhibited a strong desire to topple over and fall on +people, but by the liberal use of nails and screws and bits of +firewood, I made life in the same room with it possible, and then, +being exhausted, I had my wounds dressed, and went to bed. + +In the middle of the night my wife woke me up in a great state of +alarm, to say that the clock had just struck thirteen, and who did I +think was going to die? + +I said I did not know, but hoped it might be the next-door dog. + +My wife said she had a presentiment it meant baby. There was no +comforting her; she cried herself to sleep again. + +During the course of the morning, I succeeded in persuading her that +she must have made a mistake, and she consented to smile once more. +In the afternoon the clock struck thirteen again. + +This renewed all her fears. She was convinced now that both baby and +I were doomed, and that she would be left a childless widow. I tried +to treat the matter as a joke, and this only made her more wretched. +She said that she could see I really felt as she did, and was only +pretending to be light-hearted for her sake, and she said she would +try and bear it bravely. + +The person she chiefly blamed was Buggles. + +In the night the clock gave us another warning, and my wife accepted +it for her Aunt Maria, and seemed resigned. She wished, however, that +I had never had the clock, and wondered when, if ever, I should get +cured of my absurd craze for filling the house with tomfoolery. + +The next day the clock struck thirteen four times and this cheered her +up. She said that if we were all going to die, it did not so much +matter. Most likely there was a fever or a plague coming, and we +should all be taken together. + +She was quite light-hearted over it! + +After that the clock went on and killed every friend and relation we +had, and then it started on the neighbors. + +It struck thirteen all day long for months, until we were sick of +slaughter, and there could not have been a human being left alive for +miles around. + +Then it turned over a new leaf, and gave up murdering folks, and took +to striking mere harmless thirty-nines and forty-ones. Its favorite +number now is thirty-two, but once a day it strikes forty-nine. It +never strikes more than forty-nine. I don't know why--I have never +been able to understand why--but it doesn't. + +It does not strike at regular intervals, but when it feels it wants to +and would be better for it. Sometimes it strikes three or four times +within the same hour, and at other times it will go for half-a-day +without striking at all. + +He is an odd old fellow! + +I have thought now and then of having him "seen to," and made to keep +regular hours and be respectable; but, somehow, I seem to have grown +to love him as he is with his daring mockery of Time. + +He certainly has not much respect for it. He seems to go out of his +way almost to openly insult it. He calls half-past two thirty-eight +o'clock, and in twenty minutes from then he says it is one! + +Is it that he really has grown to feel contempt for his master, and +wishes to show it? They say no man is a hero to his valet; may it be +that even stony-face Time himself is but a short-lived, puny mortal--a +little greater than some others, that is all--to the dim eyes of this +old servant of his? Has he, ticking, ticking, all these years, come +at last to see into the littleness of that Time that looms so great to +our awed human eyes? + +Is he saying, as he grimly laughs, and strikes his thirty-fives and +forties: "Bah! I know you, Time, godlike and dread though you seem. +What are you but a phantom--a dream--like the rest of us here? Ay, +less, for you will pass away and be no more. Fear him not, immortal +men. Time is but the shadow of the world upon the background of +Eternity!" + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, CLOCKS *** + +This file should be named jjclk10.txt or jjclk10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, jjclk11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, jjclk10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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