"But how is that going to show the time?" queried Ross.
"Because," said the Forecaster with a smile, "whenever the shadow of the pole lies along the line of white marbles, which marks the meridian plane, it is exactly twelve o'clock by sun time."
"Without any measuring as to length?"
"Without any measuring at all."
"That ain't no clock, Mistah Levin," the darky announced in a superior way. "Ah don't hold with no clock like that."
"Why not, Dan'l?"
"Ah gets hungry other times besides noon," he said. "Ah'd only eat once a day by that clock. No, suh, Ah wants a clock that tells every hour o' the day, not jest noon-time.
"Ah got another clock that don't never need no mending, not in summer-time," continued Dan'l. "My marigolds open at seven sharp every mornin' an' wink their eyes at me an' say 'Dan'l, yo're hungry,' and Ah sho' is. An' jest before six o'clock in the evenin', the white moon-flowers say, 'Dan'l, time fo' supper and yo' little white bed.' An' dey's right, too. Don't need no sun-clocks."
"I'm like Dan'l," put in Anton, "I'd like to be able to tell every hour, not just twelve o'clock only!"
"Well," the Forecaster answered cheerfully, "you can make your sun-clock that way if you like."