Prevod
Jim je bil kavbojev sin in je živel na prostranih arizonskih planjavah. Oče ga je naučil, da je z lasom nezmotljivo ujel neukročenega konja ali mladega bika, in če bi imel Jim poleg spretnosti še dovolj moči, bi bil prav tako dober kavboj kot kateri koli drug v vsej Arizoni.
Ko mu je bilo dvanajst let, je prvič obiskal vzhod, kjer je živel stric Charles, očetov brat. Seveda je Jim vzel laso s seboj, saj je bil ponosen na svojo spretnost pri metanju in je hotel bratrancem in sestričnam pokazati, kaj zmore kavboj.
Mestni fantje in dekleta so sprva z velikim zanimanjem opazovali, kako Jim z lasom lovi stebre in kole v ograji, vendar so se tega kmalu naveličali in celo Jim je sklenil, da to ni prava zabava za mesto.
Nekega dne pa je mesar prosil Jima, naj enega njegovih konj odjezdi na podeželje, na pašnik, ki ga je najel, in Jim je z veseljem privolil. Že dolgo si je želel jezditi, in da bi bilo vse tako kot nekoč, je vzel s seboj tudi laso.
Po ulicah je jezdil dovolj krotko, ko pa je prišel na odprte podeželske ceste, se je njegovo veselje razmahnilo v divje navdušenje. Mesarjevega konja je pognal v poln galop in oddirjal kakor pravi kavboj.
Potem si je zaželel še več svobode. Odmaknil je prečke na vhodu v veliko polje in začel jezditi po travniku ter metati laso za namišljeno živino, pri tem pa je vpil in vriskal, kolikor mu je srce poželelo.
Nenadoma se je pri dolgem metu zanka lasa zataknila ob nekaj in obstala približno tri čevlje nad tlemi, vrv pa se je napela in Jima skoraj potegnila s konja.
Tega ni pričakoval. Še več, bilo je naravnost čudežno, saj na polju, kot kaže, ni bilo niti štora. Jimu so se od začudenja razširile oči, toda ko je zaslišal glas, je vedel, da je nekaj ujel:
»Hej, izpusti me! Izpusti me, pravim! Mar ne vidiš, kaj si naredil?« Ne, Jim ni videl, pa tudi izpustiti ni nameraval, dokler ne bi ugotovil, kaj drži zanko njegovega lasa. Zato se je zatekel k staremu triku, ki ga je naučil oče: mesarjevega konja je pognal v tek in začel jezditi v krogu okoli mesta, kjer se je laso zataknil.
Ko se je tako vse bolj približeval svojemu plenu, je videl, kako se vrv navija, vendar se je zdelo, da se ovija zgolj okoli zraka. En konec lasa je bil trdno privezan na obroč v sedlu, in ko je bila vrv že skoraj vsa navita, konj pa se je začel odmikati in prestrašeno prhati, je Jim razjahal. Z eno roko je držal vajeti, sledil vrvi in hip zatem zagledal starca, trdno ujetega v ovojih lasa.
Glavo je imel plešasto in nepokrito, dolga bela brada pa mu je segala do pasu. Telo mu je ogrinjalo ohlapno oblačilo iz finega belega platna. V eni roki je držal veliko koso, pod drugo pazduho pa je nosil peščeno uro.
Medtem ko ga je Jim začudeno gledal, je častitljivi starec jezno spregovoril: »No, zdaj pa čim prej odstrani to vrv! S svojo neumnostjo si ustavil vse na svetu! No, kaj strmiš? Mar ne veš, kdo sem?«
»Ne,« je zmedeno rekel Jim. »No, jaz sem Čas — Oče Čas! Zdaj pa pohiti in me osvobodi, če hočeš, da bo svet spet tekel, kot je treba.« »Kako to, da sem vas ujel?« je vprašal Jim, ne da bi se premaknil, da bi osvobodil svojega ujetnika.
»Ne vem. Še nikoli me ni nihče ujel,« je zagodrnjal Oče Čas. »A najbrž zato, ker si tako nespametno metal laso v prazno.«
»Nisem vas videl,« je rekel Jim. »Seveda me nisi. Človeškim očem sem neviden, razen če se mi kdo približa na manj kot tri čevlje, jaz pa pazim, da sem vedno dlje od njih. Zato sem prečkal to polje, kjer sem mislil, da ne bo nikogar. In povsem varen bi bil, če ne bi bilo tvojega prekletega lasa. No,« je nejevoljno dodal, »boš odstranil to vrv ali ne?«
»Zakaj pa bi jo?« je vprašal Jim. »Ker se je v trenutku, ko si me ujel, vse na svetu nehalo premikati. Saj menda nočeš narediti konca vsemu delu in zabavi, vojni in ljubezni, bedi in stremuštvu ter vsemu drugemu, kaj? Niti ena ura ni tiktaknila, odkar si me tukaj zvezal kakor mumijo!«
Jim se je zasmejal. Res je bilo smešno gledati starca, od kolen do brade ovitega v vrv. »Počitek vam bo dobro del,« je rekel deček. »Kolikor sem slišal, imate precej dela.«
»To pa res,« je vzdihnil Oče Čas. »Prav ta trenutek bi moral biti na Kamčatki. In pomisli, en sam majhen deček mi podira ves ustaljeni red!«
»Kakšna škoda!« je rekel Jim in se zarežal. »Toda ker se je svet tako ali tako ustavil, nič ne škodi, če ima še malo daljši odmor. Brž ko vas izpustim, bo Čas spet letel. Kje pa imate krila?«
»Nimam jih,« je odgovoril starec. »To si je izmislil nekdo, ki me ni nikoli videl. V resnici se premikam precej počasi.« »Aha, vzamete si čas,« je pripomnil deček. »Za kaj pa uporabljate tisto koso?«
»Da kosim ljudi,« je rekel starodavni mož. »Vsakič, ko zamahnem s koso, nekdo umre.« »Potem bi si zaslužil odlikovanje za reševanje življenj, ker vas držim zvezanega,« je rekel Jim. »Nekateri ljudje bodo zato živeli toliko dlje.«
»Vendar tega ne bodo vedeli,« je z žalostnim nasmehom rekel Oče Čas, »zato od tega ne bodo imeli nič. Prav tako dobro bi bilo, če bi me takoj odvezal.« »Ne,« je odločno rekel Jim. »Morda vas ne bom nikoli več ujel, zato vas bom nekaj časa zadržal in pogledal, kako se svet vrti brez vas.«
Nato je starca, zvezanega, kot je bil, dvignil na hrbet mesarjevega konja, sam zlezel v sedlo in se odpravil nazaj proti mestu; z eno roko je držal ujetnika, z drugo pa vodil konja.
Ko je prišel na cesto, je zagledal nenavaden prizor. Sredi ceste sta stala konj in lahek voz. Konj je bil ujet sredi kasa, z visoko dvignjeno glavo in dvema nogama v zraku, vendar povsem negiben. Na vozu sta sedela moški in ženska; še če bi se spremenila v kamen, ne bi mogla biti bolj negibna in toga.
»Zanju ni Časa!« je vzdihnil starec. »Me zdaj vendarle izpustiš?« »Še ne,« je odvrnil deček. Jezdil je naprej, dokler ni prišel v mesto, kjer so vsi ljudje stali natanko v položajih, v katerih so bili, ko je Jim z lasom ujel Očeta Časa. Pred veliko trgovino z blagom se je ustavil, privezal konja in vstopil. Prodajalci so odmerjali blago in kazali vzorce vrstam kupcev pred seboj, toda videti je bilo, kakor da so se vsi nenadoma spremenili v kipe.
V tem prizoru je bilo nekaj zelo neprijetnega in Jima je začelo spreletavati po hrbtu, zato je hitro odšel ven. Na robu pločnika je sedel reven, pohabljen berač in ponujal klobuk, ob njem pa je stal premožen gospod, ki je ravno nameraval spustiti peni v beračev klobuk. Jim je vedel, da je gospod zelo bogat, a precej skop, zato si je drznil seči v njegov žep in izvleči denarnico, v kateri je bil zlatnik za dvajset dolarjev. Ta bleščeči kovanec je gospodu položil med prste namesto penija, nato pa denarnico vrnil v bogatašev žep.
»Ta dar ga bo pa presenetil, ko bo spet oživel,« si je mislil deček. Znova je zajahal konja in jezdil po ulici. Ko je šel mimo mesnice svojega prijatelja, je opazil nekaj kosov mesa, ki so viseli zunaj.
»Bojim se, da se bo tisto meso pokvarilo,« je pripomnil. »Da se meso pokvari, je potreben Čas,« je odgovoril starec. Jimu se je to zdelo nenavadno, vendar resnično. »Kaže, da se Čas vmešava v vse,« je rekel.
»Da, ujel si najpomembnejšo osebo na svetu,« je zastokal starec, »pa nimaš dovolj pameti, da bi jo spet izpustil.«
Jim ni odgovoril in kmalu sta prišla do stričeve hiše, kjer je spet razjahal. Ulica je bila polna vpreg in ljudi, vendar je bilo vse negibno. Njegova mala bratranca sta ravno odhajala skozi vrtna vrata proti šoli, s knjigami in tablicami pod pazduho, zato je moral Jim preskočiti ograjo, da ju ne bi podrl.
V sprednji sobi je sedela teta in brala Sveto pismo. Ko se je Čas ustavil, je ravno obračala stran. V jedilnici je stric končeval kosilo. Usta je imel odprta, vilice tik pred njimi, oči pa uprte v časopis, zložen ob njem. Jim si je postregel s stričevo pito in se med jedjo odpravil ven k svojemu ujetniku.
»Nekaj mi ni jasno,« je rekel. »Kaj pa?« je vprašal Oče Čas. »Zakaj se lahko jaz premikam, vsi drugi pa so — so — zamrznili?«
»Zato, ker sem tvoj ujetnik,« je odgovoril starec. »Zdaj lahko s Časom počneš, kar hočeš. Toda če ne boš previden, boš naredil kaj, kar boš obžaloval.«
Jim je skorjo svoje pite vrgel v ptico, ki je obvisela v zraku tam, kjer je letela, ko se je Čas ustavil. »Vseeno,« se je zasmejal, »živim dlje kot vsi drugi. Nihče me ne bo mogel nikoli več dohiteti.«
»Vsakemu življenju je odmerjena njegova doba,« je rekel starec. »Ko boš odživel svoj čas, te bo pokosila moja kosa.« »Pozabil sem na vašo koso,« je zamišljeno rekel Jim.
Tedaj se je v dečku prebudila nagajivost, saj se je domislil, da nikoli več ne bo imel takšne priložnosti za zabavo. Očeta Časa je privezal k stričevemu stebru za privezovanje konj, da mu ne bi ušel, nato pa prečkal cesto in šel v trgovino z živili na vogalu.
Trgovec je prav tisto jutro oštel Jima, ker je po nesreči stopil v košaro repe. Zato je deček odšel v zadnji del trgovine in odprl pipo na sodu z melaso.
»To bo pa lepa packarija, ko bo Čas pognal melaso po vseh tleh,« je v smehu rekel Jim. Malo naprej po ulici je bila brivnica in na brivskem stolu je Jim zagledal moža, za katerega so vsi fantje trdili, da je »najzlobnejši človek v mestu«. Fantov zagotovo ni maral in oni so to vedeli. Ko je bil Čas ujet, je brivec temu možu ravno umival lase. Jim je stekel v lekarno, dobil stekleničko lepila, se vrnil in ga zlil po razmršenih laseh nepriljubljenega meščana.
»To ga bo najbrž presenetilo, ko se bo zbudil,« si je mislil Jim. V bližini je bila šola. Jim je vstopil vanjo in ugotovil, da se je zbralo šele nekaj učencev. Učitelj pa je sedel za svojo mizo, strog in namrščen kot vedno.
Jim je vzel kos krede in na tablo z velikimi črkami napisal naslednje besede: »Vsak učenec naj zavpije, kakor hitro vstopi v učilnico. Prav tako naj vrže svoje knjige učitelju v glavo. Podpis: prof. Sharpe.«
»To bi moralo povzročiti lep direndaj,« je zamrmral navihanec, ko je odhajal. Na vogalu je stal policist Mulligan in se pogovarjal s staro gospodično Scrapple, najhujšo opravljivko v mestu, ki je vedno z veseljem povedala kaj neprijetnega o svojih sosedih. Jim je menil, da je ta priložnost predobra, da bi jo zamudil. Zato je policistu snel čepico in suknjič z medeninastimi gumbi ter ju nadel gospodični Scrapple, njen klobuk s perjem in trakovi pa je gizdalinsko posadil policistu na glavo.
Prizor je bil tako smešen, da se je deček glasno zasmejal. Ker je blizu vogala stalo precej ljudi, je Jim sklenil, da bosta gospodična Scrapple in policist Mulligan povzročila pravo senzacijo, ko se bo Čas spet odpravil na pot.
Tedaj se je mladi kavboj spomnil svojega ujetnika in se vrnil k priveznemu stebru. Ko se mu je približal na manj kot tri čevlje, je zagledal Očeta Časa, ki je še vedno potrpežljivo stal v ovojih lasa. Vendar je bil videti jezen in nejevoljen in je zagodrnjal:
»No, kdaj me nameravaš izpustiti?« »Razmišljal sem o tisti vaši grdi kosi,« je rekel Jim. »Kaj pa?« je vprašal Oče Čas.
»Morda boste, če vas izpustim, najprej zamahnili z njo po meni, da bi se maščevali,« je odgovoril deček. Oče Čas ga je strogo pogledal, vendar je rekel:
»Fante poznam že tisoče let in seveda vem, da so nagajivi in nepremišljeni. A rad jih imam, ker zrastejo v može in naseljujejo moj svet. Če bi me po naključju ujel odrasel mož, kakor si me ti, bi ga lahko tako prestrašil, da bi me takoj izpustil; fante pa je teže prestrašiti. Niti ne vem, ali ti lahko kaj zamerim. Tudi sam sem bil nekoč deček, davno tega, ko je bil svet še nov. Toda do zdaj si se gotovo že dovolj pozabaval z menoj in upam, da boš zdaj pokazal spoštovanje, ki pritiče starosti. Izpusti me in v zameno ti obljubim, da bom povsem pozabil na svoje ujetništvo. Ta pripetljaj tako ali tako ne bo naredil veliko škode, saj nihče ne bo nikoli izvedel, da se je Čas za zadnje tri ure ali nekaj takega ustavil.«
»Prav,« je veselo rekel Jim, »ker ste obljubili, da me ne boste pokosili, vas bom izpustil.« Vendar je slutil, da bodo nekateri ljudje v mestu posumili, da se je Čas ustavil, ko bodo spet oživeli.
Previdno je odvil vrv s starca, ta pa si je, brž ko je bil prost, oprtal koso, popravil belo oblačilo in pokimal v slovo.
Že naslednji hip je izginil in svet je ob šelestenju, ropotu in bučanju znova oživel ter stekel naprej kakor vselej poprej.
Jim je zvil laso, zajahal mesarjevega konja in počasi jezdil po ulici. Z vogala so prihajali glasni kriki in tam se je hitro zbrala velika množica. S konjskega hrbta je Jim videl gospodično Scrapple v policijski uniformi, ki je jezno žugala Mulliganu s pestmi pred obrazom, medtem ko je policist besno teptal njen klobuk, ki si ga je ob posmehljivih vzklikih množice strgal z glave.
Ko je jezdil mimo šole, je zaslišal silen zbor krikov in vedel je, da profesor Sharpe le stežka kroti razgrajanje, ki ga je povzročil napis na tabli.
Skozi okno brivnice je videl »zlobnega moža«, kako s krtačo za lase besno mlati brivca, lasje pa so mu na vse strani štrleli, togi kakor bajoneti. Trgovec je pritekel skozi vrata in vpil: »Požar!«, njegovi čevlji pa so puščali sled melase, kamor koli je stopil.
Jimovo srce je bilo polno veselja. Prav užival je v vznemirjenju, ki ga je povzročil, ko ga je nekdo zgrabil za nogo in potegnil s konja.
»Kaj pa počneš tukaj, ti nepridiprav?« je jezno zavpil mesar. »Mar nisi obljubil, da boš to žival odpeljal na Plymptonov pašnik? Zdaj te pa najdem, kako tega ubogega konjiča jahaš naokrog kakor kak gospod, ki nima drugega dela!«
»To je pa res,« je presenečeno rekel Jim. »Čisto sem pozabil na konja!« Ta zgodba naj nas pouči o neizmerni pomembnosti Časa in o nespametnosti poskusov, da bi ga ustavili. Kajti če bi vam kakor Jimu uspelo ustaviti Čas, bi svet kmalu postal pust kraj in življenje prav neprijetno.
Izvirnik
Jim was the son of a cowboy, and lived on the broad plains of Arizona. His father had trained him to lasso a bronco or a young bull with perfect accuracy, and had Jim possessed the strength to back up his skill he would have been as good a cowboy as any in all Arizona.
When he was twelve years old he made his first visit to the east, where Uncle Charles, his father’s brother, lived. Of course Jim took his lasso with him, for he was proud of his skill in casting it, and wanted to show his cousins what a cowboy could do.
At first the city boys and girls were much interested in watching Jim lasso posts and fence pickets, but they soon tired of it, and even Jim decided it was not the right sort of sport for cities.
But one day the butcher asked Jim to ride one of his horses into the country, to a pasture that had been engaged, and Jim eagerly consented. He had been longing for a horseback ride, and to make it seem like old times he took his lasso with him.
He rode through the streets demurely enough, but on reaching the open country roads his spirits broke forth into wild jubilation, and, urging the butcher’s horse to full gallop, he dashed away in true cowboy fashion.
Then he wanted still more liberty, and letting down the bars that led into a big field he began riding over the meadow and throwing his lasso at imaginary cattle, while he yelled and whooped to his heart’s content.
Suddenly, on making a long cast with his lasso, the loop caught upon something and rested about three feet from the ground, while the rope drew taut and nearly pulled Jim from his horse.
This was unexpected. More than that, it was wonderful; for the field seemed bare of even a stump. Jim’s eyes grew big with amazement, but he knew he had caught something when a voice cried out:
“Here, let go! Let go, I say! Can’t you see what you’ve done?”
No, Jim couldn’t see, nor did he intend to let go until he found out what was holding the loop of the lasso. So he resorted to an old trick his father had taught him and, putting the butcher’s horse to a run, began riding in a circle around the spot where his lasso had caught.
As he thus drew nearer and nearer his quarry he saw the rope coil up, yet it looked to be coiling over nothing but air. One end of the lasso was made fast to a ring in the saddle, and when the rope was almost wound up and the horse began to pull away and snort with fear, Jim dismounted. Holding the reins of the bridle in one hand, he followed the rope, and an instant later saw an old man caught fast in the coils of the lasso.
His head was bald and uncovered, but long white whiskers grew down to his waist. About his body was thrown a loose robe of fine white linen. In one hand he bore a great scythe, and beneath the other arm he carried an hourglass.
While Jim gazed wonderingly upon him, this venerable old man spoke in an angry voice:
“Now, then—get that rope off as fast as you can! You’ve brought everything on earth to a standstill by your foolishness! Well—what are you staring at? Don’t you know who I am?”
“No,” said Jim, stupidly.
“Well, I’m Time—Father Time! Now, make haste and set me free—if you want the world to run properly.”
“How did I happen to catch you?” asked Jim, without making a move to release his captive.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been caught before,” growled Father Time. “But I suppose it was because you were foolishly throwing your lasso at nothing.”
“I didn’t see you,” said Jim.
“Of course you didn’t. I’m invisible to the eyes of human beings unless they get within three feet of me, and I take care to keep more than that distance away from them. That’s why I was crossing this field, where I supposed no one would be. And I should have been perfectly safe had it not been for your beastly lasso. Now, then,” he added, crossly, “are you going to get that rope off?”
“Why should I?” asked Jim.
“Because everything in the world stopped moving the moment you caught me. I don’t suppose you want to make an end of all business and pleasure, and war and love, and misery and ambition and everything else, do you? Not a watch has ticked since you tied me up here like a mummy!”
Jim laughed. It really was funny to see the old man wound round and round with coils of rope from his knees up to his chin.
“It’ll do you good to rest,” said the boy. “From all I’ve heard you lead a rather busy life.”
“Indeed I do,” replied Father Time, with a sigh. “I’m due in Kamchatka this very minute. And to think one small boy is upsetting all my regular habits!”
“Too bad!” said Jim, with a grin. “But since the world has stopped anyhow, it won’t matter if it takes a little longer recess. As soon as I let you go Time will fly again. Where are your wings?”
“I haven’t any,” answered the old man. “That is a story cooked up by some one who never saw me. As a matter of fact, I move rather slowly.”
“I see, you take your time,” remarked the boy. “What do you use that scythe for?”
“To mow down the people,” said the ancient one. “Every time I swing my scythe some one dies.”
“Then I ought to win a life-saving medal by keeping you tied up,” said Jim. “Some folks will live this much longer.”
“But they won’t know it,” said Father Time, with a sad smile; “so it will do them no good. You may as well untie me at once.”
“No,” said Jim, with a determined air. “I may never capture you again; so I’ll hold you for awhile and see how the world wags without you.”
Then he swung the old man, bound as he was, upon the back of the butcher’s horse, and, getting into the saddle himself, started back toward town, one hand holding his prisoner and the other guiding the reins.
When he reached the road his eye fell on a strange tableau. A horse and buggy stood in the middle of the road, the horse in the act of trotting, with his head held high and two legs in the air, but perfectly motionless. In the buggy a man and a woman were seated; but had they been turned into stone they could not have been more still and stiff.
“There’s no Time for them!” sighed the old man. “Won’t you let me go now?”
“Not yet,” replied the boy.
He rode on until he reached the city, where all the people stood in exactly the same positions they were in when Jim lassoed Father Time. Stopping in front of a big dry goods store, the boy hitched his horse and went in. The clerks were measuring out goods and showing patterns to the rows of customers in front of them, but everyone seemed suddenly to have become a statue.
There was something very unpleasant in this scene, and a cold shiver began to run up and down Jim’s back; so he hurried out again.
On the edge of the sidewalk sat a poor, crippled beggar, holding out his hat, and beside him stood a prosperous-looking gentleman who was about to drop a penny into the beggar’s hat. Jim knew this gentleman to be very rich but rather stingy, so he ventured to run his hand into the man’s pocket and take out his purse, in which was a $20 gold piece. This glittering coin he put in the gentleman’s fingers instead of the penny and then restored the purse to the rich man’s pocket.
“That donation will surprise him when he comes to life,” thought the boy.
He mounted the horse again and rode up the street. As he passed the shop of his friend, the butcher, he noticed several pieces of meat hanging outside.
“I’m afraid that meat’ll spoil,” he remarked.
“It takes Time to spoil meat,” answered the old man.
This struck Jim as being queer, but true.
“It seems Time meddles with everything,” said he.
“Yes; you’ve made a prisoner of the most important personage in the world,” groaned the old man; “and you haven’t enough sense to let him go again.”
Jim did not reply, and soon they came to his uncle’s house, where he again dismounted. The street was filled with teams and people, but all were motionless. His two little cousins were just coming out the gate on their way to school, with their books and slates underneath their arms; so Jim had to jump over the fence to avoid knocking them down.
In the front room sat his aunt, reading her Bible. She was just turning a page when Time stopped. In the dining-room was his uncle, finishing his luncheon. His mouth was open and his fork poised just before it, while his eyes were fixed upon the newspaper folded beside him. Jim helped himself to his uncle’s pie, and while he ate it he walked out to his prisoner.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” said he.
“What’s that?” asked Father Time.
“Why is it that I’m able to move around while everyone else is—is—froze up?”
“That is because I’m your prisoner,” answered the other. “You can do anything you wish with Time now. But unless you are careful you’ll do something you will be sorry for.”
Jim threw the crust of his pie at a bird that was suspended in the air, where it had been flying when Time stopped.
“Anyway,” he laughed, “I’m living longer than anyone else. No one will ever be able to catch up with me again.”
“Each life has its allotted span,” said the old man. “When you have lived your proper time my scythe will mow you down.”
“I forgot your scythe,” said Jim, thoughtfully.
Then a spirit of mischief came into the boy’s head, for he happened to think that the present opportunity to have fun would never occur again. He tied Father Time to his uncle’s hitching post, that he might not escape, and then crossed the road to the corner grocery.
The grocer had scolded Jim that very morning for stepping into a basket of turnips by accident. So the boy went to the back end of the grocery and turned on the faucet of the molasses barrel.
“That’ll make a nice mess when Time starts the molasses running all over the floor,” said Jim, with a laugh.
A little further down the street was a barber shop, and sitting in the barber’s chair Jim saw the man that all the boys declared was the “meanest man in town.” He certainly did not like the boys and the boys knew it. The barber was in the act of shampooing this person when Time was captured. Jim ran to the drug store, and, getting a bottle of mucilage, he returned and poured it over the ruffled hair of the unpopular citizen.
“That’ll probably surprise him when he wakes up,” thought Jim.
Near by was the schoolhouse. Jim entered it and found that only a few of the pupils were assembled. But the teacher sat at his desk, stern and frowning as usual.
Taking a piece of chalk, Jim marked upon the blackboard in big letters the following words:
“Every scholar is requested to yell the minute he enters the room. He will also please throw his books at the teacher’s head. Signed, Prof. Sharpe.”
“That ought to raise a nice rumpus,” murmured the mischiefmaker, as he walked away.
On the corner stood Policeman Mulligan, talking with old Miss Scrapple, the worst gossip in town, who always delighted in saying something disagreeable about her neighbors. Jim thought this opportunity was too good to lose. So he took off the policeman’s cap and brass-buttoned coat and put them on Miss Scrapple, while the lady’s feathered and ribboned hat he placed jauntily upon the policeman’s head.
The effect was so comical that the boy laughed aloud, and as a good many people were standing near the corner Jim decided that Miss Scrapple and Officer Mulligan would create a sensation when Time started upon his travels.
Then the young cowboy remembered his prisoner, and, walking back to the hitching post, he came within three feet of it and saw Father Time still standing patiently within the toils of the lasso. He looked angry and annoyed, however, and growled out:
“Well, when do you intend to release me?”
“I’ve been thinking about that ugly scythe of yours,” said Jim.
“What about it?” asked Father Time.
“Perhaps if I let you go you’ll swing it at me the first thing, to be revenged,” replied the boy.
Father Time gave him a severe look, but said:
“I’ve known boys for thousands of years, and of course I know they’re mischievous and reckless. But I like boys, because they grow up to be men and people my world. Now, if a man had caught me by accident, as you did, I could have scared him into letting me go instantly; but boys are harder to scare. I don’t know as I blame you. I was a boy myself, long ago, when the world was new. But surely you’ve had enough fun with me by this time, and now I hope you’ll show the respect that is due to old age. Let me go, and in return I will promise to forget all about my capture. The incident won’t do much harm, anyway, for no one will ever know that Time has halted the last three hours or so.”
“All right,” said Jim, cheerfully, “since you’ve promised not to mow me down, I’ll let you go.” But he had a notion some people in the town would suspect Time had stopped when they returned to life.
He carefully unwound the rope from the old man, who, when he was free, at once shouldered his scythe, rearranged his white robe and nodded farewell.
The next moment he had disappeared, and with a rustle and rumble and roar of activity the world came to life again and jogged along as it always had before.
Jim wound up his lasso, mounted the butcher’s horse and rode slowly down the street.
Loud screams came from the corner, where a great crowd of people quickly assembled. From his seat on the horse Jim saw Miss Scrapple, attired in the policeman’s uniform, angrily shaking her fists in Mulligan’s face, while the officer was furiously stamping upon the lady’s hat, which he had torn from his own head amidst the jeers of the crowd.
As he rode past the schoolhouse he heard a tremendous chorus of yells, and knew Prof. Sharpe was having a hard time to quell the riot caused by the sign on the blackboard.
Through the window of the barber shop he saw the “mean man” frantically belaboring the barber with a hair brush, while his hair stood up stiff as bayonets in all directions. And the grocer ran out of his door and yelled “Fire!” while his shoes left a track of molasses wherever he stepped.
Jim’s heart was filled with joy. He was fairly reveling in the excitement he had caused when some one caught his leg and pulled him from the horse.
“What’re ye doin’ hear, ye rascal?” cried the butcher, angrily; “didn’t ye promise to put that beast inter Plympton’s pasture? An’ now I find ye ridin’ the poor nag around like a gentleman o’ leisure!”
“That’s a fact,” said Jim, with surprise; “I clean forgot about the horse!”
This story should teach us the supreme importance of Time and the folly of trying to stop it. For should you succeed, as Jim did, in bringing Time to a standstill, the world would soon become a dreary place and life decidedly unpleasant.
