The Rare and Costly Cup
Trove had been reciting the history of his trouble and had finished with bitter words.
"Shame on thee, boy," said the tinker, as Trove sat before him with tears of anger in his eyes. "Watch yonder pendulum and say not a word until it has ticked forty times. For what are thy learning an' thy mighty thews if they do not bear thee up in time o' trouble? Now is thy trial come before the Judge of all. Up with thy head, boy, an' be acquitted o' weakness an' fear an' evil passion."
"We deserve better of him," said Trove, speaking of Riley Brooke. "When all others hated him, we were kind to the old sinner, and it has done him no good."
"Ah, but has it done thee good? There's the question," said
Darrel, his hand upon the boy's arm.
"I believe it has," said Trove, with a look of surprise.
"It was thee I thought of, boy; I had never much thought o' him."
That moment Trove saw farther into the depth of Darrel's heart than ever before. It startled him. Surely, here was a man that passed all understanding.
Darrel crossed to his bench and began to wind the clocks.
"Ho, Clocks!" said he, thoughtfully. "Know ye the cars have come? Now must we look well to the long hand o' the clock. The old, slow-footed hour is dead, an' now, boy, the minute is our king."