From a Bench in Our Square, page 29 by Samuel Hopkins Adams
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ice of time mocked me with a subtle and solemn mockery: "Long. Long. Long."
My host waited for the clock to finish before he spoke again. As I afterward discovered, this was his invariable custom.
"I, too, am an old man," he murmured.
"A hardy sixty, I should guess."
"A long life. Might I ask you a question, sir,' as to the folk in this Square?" He hesitated a moment after I had nodded. "Are they, as one might say, friendly? Neighborly?"
I was a little taken aback. "We are not an intrusive people."
"No one," he said, "has been to see my clocks."
I began to perceive that this was a sad little man, and to mislike my errand. "You live here quite alone?" I asked.
"Oh, no!" said he quickly. "You see, I have Willy Woolly. Pardon me. I have not yet presented him."
At his call the fluffy poodle ambled over to me, sniffed at my extended hand, and, rearing, set his paws on my knee.
"He greets you as a friend," said my new acquaintance in a tone which indicated that I had been signally honored. "I trust that we shall see you here often, Mr. Dominie. Would you like to inspect my collection now?"
Here was my opening. "The fact is--" I began, and stopped from sheer cowardice. The job was too distasteful. To wound that gentle pride in his possessions which was obviously the life of the singular being before me--I couldn't do it. "The fact is," I repeated, "I--I have a friend outside waiting for me. The Little Red Doctor--er--Dr. Smith, you know."
"A physician?" he said eagerly. "Would he come in, do you think? Willy Woolly has been quite feverish to-day."
"I'll ask him," I replied, and escaped with that excuse.
When I broke it to the Little Red Doctor, the mildest thing he said to me was to ask me why I should take him for a dash-binged vet!
Appeals to his curiosity finally overpersuaded him, and now it was my turn to wait on the bench while he invaded the realm of the Voices. Happily for me the weather was amiable;