During this time she had made up her mind what she should do. There was yet one day before Christmas, and if the people of the town could be made to see in what a deplorable condition they were, they might have time to set the matter right so that all the clocks should strike the correct hour and everybody should know exactly when Christmas Day began. Arla was sure that the citizens had never given this matter proper thought.
When she went down to breakfast, she asked permission of her mother to take a day’s holiday. Her mother was quite willing to give her the day before Christmas in which she could do as she pleased. So Arla started out gayly to attend to the business she had in hand. Everybody in Rondaine knew her father and mother and a great many of them knew her, so there was no reason why she should be afraid to go where she chose. In one hand she carried a small covered basket in which she had placed her rose clock.
The first place she visited was the church where she and her parents always attended service. When she entered the dimly lighted church, Arla soon saw the sexton. He was a pleasant-faced little man whom she knew very well.
“Good morning, sir,” said she. “Do you take care of the church clock?”
“Yes, my little friend,” said he.
“Well, then,” said Arla, “I think you ought to know that your clock is eleven minutes too fast. I came here to tell you so that you might change it, and make it strike properly.”
The sexton’s eyes began to twinkle. He was a man of merry mood. “That is very good of you, little Arla; very good indeed. And now that we are about it, isn’t there something else you would like to change? What do you say to having these stone pillars put to one side, so that they may be out of the way of the people when they come in? Or what do you say to having our clock tower taken down and set out there in the square before the church door? Now tell me, shall we do these things together, wise little friend?”
A tear or two came into Arla’s eyes and she went away. “I suppose,” she said to herself, “that it would be too much trouble to climb to the top of the tower to set the clock right. But that was no reason why he should make fun of me. I don’t like him as well as I used to.”
She now made her way to the great square of the town, and entered the building at the top of which stood the stone man with his hammer. She found the doorkeeper in a little room by the side of the entrance. Arla thought she would be careful how she spoke to him.
“If you please, sir,” she said with a courtesy, “I should like to say something to you. And I hope you will not be offended when I tell you that your clock is not right. Your stone man and your stone woman are both too slow. They sometimes strike as much as seven minutes after they ought to strike.”