“Now listen,” Hervey said. “Who’s got a watch that’s right?”
“I’ve got a watch that’s right,” I said, “and it’s the only thing here that is right.”
“That’s because it goes around and around just like we do,” Hervey said; “it never gets anywhere but it keeps going. You can depend on a compass because it always points one way, but a watch keeps changing, you can’t depend on it. One minute it says one thing and another minute it says another thing. That’s what I don’t like about a watch.”
“A watch would have to go some to keep up with you,” I said.
“You couldn’t carry a watch,” Pee-wee said, “because it would fall out of your pocket. You’re upside down half the time.”
“You’re more like a speedometer,” I said. “What do you want my watch for?”
“Can’t you guess?” he said.
“What do you want his watch for?” Pee-wee shouted, his mouth all the while full of gumdrops.
“To find out what time it is,” Hervey said.
“It’s just exactly four o’clock,” I told him.