“I confess myself to be the sole cause of the present stoppage; and I am willing, for the general satisfaction, to assign my reasons. The truth is, that I am tired of ticking.” Upon hearing this, the old clock became so enraged, that it was on the very point of striking.
“Lazy wire!” exclaimed the dial-plate, holding up its hands.—“Very good,” replied the pendulum: “it is vastly easy for you, Mistress Dial, who have always, as every body knows, set yourself up above me,—it is vastly easy for you, I say, to accuse other people of laziness! You, who have had nothing to do all the days of your life but to stare people in the face, and to amuse yourself with watching all that goes on in the kitchen! Think, I beseech you, how you would like to be shut up for life in this dark closet, and to wag backwards and forwards, year after year, and do.”—“As to that,” said the dial, “Is there not a window in your house, on purpose for you to look through?”
“For all that,” resumed the pendulum, “it is very dark here: and, although there is a window, I dare not stop, even for an instant, to look out at it. Besides, I am really tired of my way of life; and, if you wish, I’ll tell you how I took this disgust at my employment. I happened this morning to be calculating how many times I should have to tick in the course only of the next twenty-four hours: perhaps some of you above there can give me the exact sum.”
The minute hand, being quick at figures, presently replied, “Eighty-six thousand four hundred times.”
“Exactly so,” replied the pendulum; “well, I appeal to you all, if the very thought of this was not enough to fatigue one; and when I began to multiply the strokes of one day by those of months and years, really it is no wonder if I felt discouraged at the prospect; so, after a great deal of reasoning and hesitation, thinks I to myself, I’ll stop.”
The dial could scarcely keep its countenance during this harangue; but, resuming its gravity, thus replied:—
“Dear Mr. Pendulum, I am really astonished that such a useful, industrious person as yourself should have been overcome by this sudden notion. It is true you have done a great deal of work in your time; so have we all, and are likely to do; which, although it may fatigue us to think of, the question is, whether it will fatigue us to do. Would you now do me the favour to give about half a dozen strokes, to illustrate my argument?”
The pendulum complied, and ticked six times at its usual pace.—“Now,” resumed the dial, “may I be allowed to inquire, if that exertion was at all fatiguing or disagreeable to you?”
“Not in the least,” replied the pendulum; “it is not of six strokes that I complain, nor of sixty, but of millions.”