"I know, I know. I've seen him round here ever since he could toddle. Good morning, youngster. So you've come to explore the repairing department, have you?"
The informality of the greeting was delightful to Christopher, and immediately his heart went out to the old Scotchman.
"I guess so, yes," smiled he. "I didn't know I was going to though. It just happened."
"It's not a bad happen, perhaps. Make yourself at home, laddie. Here's a stool."
"I'd rather stand and watch you."
"But I sha'n't let you. It makes me nervous to have somebody hanging over my shoulder and maybe jogging my elbow. If you're to stay you must sit," was the brusque but not unkindly answer.
Somewhat crestfallen the boy slipped to the stool and for a few moments remained immovable, watching the workman's busy fingers. How carefully they moved—with what fascinating deftness and rapidity!
"I see you are not one to keep hitching and twiddling around," the clockmaker presently remarked, with a twinkle. "We shall get on famously together. I detest nervous people."
"Are you fixing the clock Mr. Bailey was asking about?" Christopher ventured.
"Not just now, sonny. I am finishing up a simpler job. I shall go back to her in a minute, however. You can't just tinker her at will as you do common clocks. She has to be dreamed over."