The Little Clock.

Kind friend, you do not know how much         I prize this time-ly treasure,     So dainty, diligent, and such         A constant source of pleasure.     The man of brains who could invent         So true a chrono-meter     Has set a charming precedent,         And made a good repeater.     It speaks with clear, commanding clicks,         Suggestive of the donor;     And 'tends to business - never sick         A bit more than the owner.     It goes when I do; when I stop         (As by the dial showing)     It never lets a second drop,         But simply keeps on going.     It tells me when I am to eat,         Which isn't necessary;     When food with me is obsolete,         I'll be a reliquary.     It tells me early when to rise,         And bother with dejeuner;     To sally forth and exercise,         And fill up my porte-monnaie.     I hear it talking in the night,         As if it were in clover:     You've never lost your appetite,         You've never been run over.     It makes me wish that I might live         More faithful unto duty,     And unto others something give         Like this bijou of beauty.     It holds its hands before its face,         So very modest is it;     So like the people in the place         Where I delight to visit.     Sometimes I wonder if it cries         The course I am pursuing;     Because it has so many I-s         And must know what I'm doing.     Sometimes I fear it makes me cry -         No matter, and no pity -     Afraid at last I'll have to die         In some far, foreign city.     It travels with me everywhere         And chirrups like a cricket;     As if it said with anxious air,         "Don't lose your tick-tick-ticket!"     Companion of my loneliness         Along my journey westward,     It never leaves me comfortless,         But has the last and best word.     I would not spoil its lovely face,         And so I go behind it,     And hold it like a china vase,         So careful when I wind it.     A clock is always excellent         That has its label on,     And proves a fine advertisement         For Waterbury, Conn.     Those Yankees - ah! they never shun         A chance to make a dime,     And counterfeit the very sun         In keeping "Standard Time."     Ah, well! the little clock has proved         The best of all bonanzas;     And thus my happy heart is moved         To these effusive stanzas.