“Now, if I go to sleep again I can feel no security from No. 1 or No. 3 or both.” Nevertheless she did go to sleep and neither No. 1 nor No. 3 called her out of it.
“I must be going,” said Mary, rising from her chair in a neighbor's house.
“Have you something special on hand?” asked her neighbor.
“Yes, it's clock-winding day at our house, for one thing.”
“Why, how many clocks do you have to wind?” inquired the little old lady with mild surprise.
“Only one, thank heaven!” ejaculated Mary as she departed.
When she had sped across the yard and entered her own door she threw off her shawl and made ready to wind the clock. First, she turned off the gas in the grate so that her skirts would not catch fire. Second, she brought a chair and set it on the hearth in front of the grate. Third, she went into the next room and got the big unabridged dictionary, brought it out and put it on the chair. Fourth, she went back and got the oldest and thickest Family Bible and the fat Bible Dictionary, brought them out and deposited them on the unabridged. Fifth, she mounted the chair. Sixth, she mounted the volumes—which brought her up to the height she was seeking to attain. Seventh, she wound the clock; that is, she usually did. Today, when she had inserted the key and turned it twice round—the 'phone rang. Oh, dear! Thank goodness it stopped at two rings. She would take it for granted the doctor was in the office. She wound on. Then she took the key out and inserted it on the opposite side. A second peal. That settled it. If it were a lawyer's or a merchant's or any other man's 'phone she could wind the other side first—but the doctor's is in the imperative mood and the present tense. She must descend. Slowly and cautiously she did so, went to the 'phone and put the receiver to her ear.
“Hello, is this Dr. Blank's office?”
“This is his—”