"_you_ try."

Tom took me and solemnly shook me; it was no use. I still remained
speechless and helpless.

"Suppose we shove his wheels on?" next suggested that sage philosopher.

Charlie demurred a little at this; it seemed almost too bold a remedy,
even for him; however he yielded to Tom's superior judgment.

The heir of the house of Drift accordingly took a pin from the lining of
his jacket, and, taking off my coat and waistcoat, proceeded first to
prod one of my wheels and then another, but in vain. They just moved
for an instant but then halted again, as stiff end lifeless as ever.

For a moment the profound Tom seemed baffled, and then at last a
brilliant idea occurred to him.

"I tell you what, I expect he's got damp, or cold, or something. We'd
better warm him!"

And the two boys knelt before the fire with me between them, turning me
at the end of my chain so as to get the warmth on all sides, like a leg
of mutton on a spit.

Of course that had no effect. What was to be done? No winding up, no
shaking, no irritation of my wheels with a pin, no warming of me at the
fire, could avail anything. They were ready to give me up. Suddenly,
however, Tom, who had been examining my face minutely, burst into a loud
laugh.

"What a young donkey you are!" he cried. "Don't you see his hands are
caught? That's what's the matter. The minute-hand's got bent, and
can't get over the hour hand. You're a nice chap to have a watch!"

It might have occurred to Charlie (as it did to me) that whatever sort
of watch-owner the former might be, a boy who successively shook,
tickled, and roasted me to get me to go, was hardly the one to lecture
him on his failings; but my master was too delighted at the prospect of
having his treasure cured to be very critical of the physician. And
this time, at last, Tom Drift had found the real cause of my
indisposition. In endeavouring to pass one another at half-past six, my
two hands had become entangled, and refusing to proceed in company, had
stopped where they were stopping my circulation and indeed my animation
at the same time.

Once more the astute Tom produced his pin; and sticking it under the end
of my minute-hand, disengaged it from its fellow and bent it back into
its proper position. Instantly, as if by magic, the life rushed back
into my body; my circulation started afresh, and my heart beat its old
beat. Charlie set up a shout of jubilation, and almost hugged T