TRADE LIFE
THE HOLIDAY
The old clock that hung in the tower of the town hall struck one.
It was dark, except for a few twinkling stars like bright eyes in the night sky. All the town was asleep. It was cold, and white snow lay over every thing. But as the clock struck one, the baker awoke and went down to his kitchen to light his ovens. It was time for the fire to glow and burn for his baking when the clock struck one o'clock.
Two struck the clock in the tower of the town hall.
As the clock struck two the baker put on his white apron and rolled up his sleeves. He bent over his great mixing bowl and began kneading the dough and shaping the loaves of bread that were to be baked in the oven.
It was time at two o'clock for the loaves of bread to go into the oven to bake in the fire that glowed and burned so early in the morning.
Three struck the clock in the tower of the town hall.
The dairyman poured rich milk into his shining bottles and packed them into the milkman's wagon. It was still dark, although the stars were not so bright and the sky was just beginning to be streaked with pink. It was very cold, but the dairyman knew that it was time at three o'clock to measure the milk that must go to town for the children to drink as they ate the bread that the baker had mixed and baked.
Four struck the clock in the old town hall. Now the sky was light enough for the milkman's team to start out, driving over the hard, frosty roads. No other people were out, but the milkman knew that he must start to town at four o'clock and begin delivering his milk that the dairyman had measured so early in the morning. The children must have it to drink as they ate the bread that the baker had mixed at two, and baked in the fire that had been lighted at one o'clock.