It was so cool and delightful at the June house that at first the travelers didn’t have much to say—they simply sat and rested and looked around. But presently Ann began to feel lively again.
“No clocks here, anyway!” she exclaimed.
The gypsy rolled his black eyes. He had a clock, he said, but it ran too fast. “In fact it ran down,” he added.
“Where is it?” asked little Ann.
“How can I tell?” returned the gypsy chap. “It ran down, you know—down into the woods. And since it runs so fast, I didn’t even try to overtake it.”
“But a clock has no feet,” cried Amos.
“It has hands, though,” retorted the gypsy. “Will you deny that?”
Then he pointed his funny brown finger at Ann. “You can make a rhyme without a clock striking, you know,” he said. “Make one, this minute, Miss.”
Ann was alarmed. “What shall I make it about?” she said in a flustered voice.