"The little tunes were mighty jolly though," observed Christopher, with evident regret.
"Very jolly indeed. Nevertheless one tired of them sooner than of the graver notes. I think I told you how, when Richard Parsons' clock made its first appearance here in the shop, everybody within hearing distance dropped his work and came running to listen to its music. The men were eager as children. For days they watched the time so to be sure not to miss nine, twelve, and three o'clock. Then the novelty wore off, and the audience gradually diminished."
"I should never be tired of listening," Christopher announced.
"Nor I. Perhaps, though, that is because the quaintness of the themes appeals to us more than does the tone of the bells themselves, for their cadence is, you must admit, a bit thin and suggestive of a music box."
"Maybe. But I like music boxes."
"In that case, Richard Parsons' music cannot fail to please you. Who knows but you may be owning one of these bracket clocks of your own some day? You better begin to save up your pennies."
"It would take too many, I'm afraid."
"I grant that it would take quite a few."