e door, up the uncarpeted stairs, clattered the boys--Solomon and
Isaac, Elias and John, Philemon and Romeo Augustus.

They all gave a nod to the clock-moon. "Good-night, old fellow," they
said. All but Romeo Augustus. He did not like the clock. That is what
this story is about.

Solomon and Isaac marched off to their own chamber. They would not
condescend to associate with "the babes." Solomon and Isaac were twins.
They were, as I have told you before, ancient. They were fourteen years
old. Philemon and Romeo Augustus were only eight, and they knew no
pleasure equal to that of sitting bolt-upright in their trundle-bed
while Elias peered down at them over the foot-board of his bed, and told
them stories with gestures.

"Tell us about the clock," said Philemon, on this occasion.

But at this suggestion Romeo Augustus--poor little Romeo
Augustus!--quaked in his red flannel night-gown.

Elias always spoke in deep and dreadful tones when he alluded to the
clock.

"Persons don't live inside, but THINGS!" said he; and Romeo Augustus
quaked afresh. "Two of them hang in air. They haven't a sign of a head,
nor feet, nor arms, nor legs. They just dangle. And the other
THING"--here Elias's voice was awful--"the other THING writhes in agony.
It is never quiet; never, never, nevermore; not when we're asleep, nor
when we're eating our porridge. Forever and forever it writhes--_anon_."

That was a capital word to end with. No one knew what "anon" meant. It
was probably some especially horrible way of writhing.

Romeo Augustus shook with terror. He could hear that clock talking still
down stairs.

"Tick-tock--tick-tock.
'Tis nine--o'clock.
Ro-meo--be-low,
Come see--in me
THINGS drear--ap-pear.
'Tis nine--o'clock.
Tick-tock--tick-tock."

That is what it said.

"How painful it must be to 'writhe anon'!" whispered Romeo Augustus to
himself. "I wouldn't care if it was _persons_--but THINGS!"

For some unknown reason the idea was ghastly to Romeo Augustus.

Now, my little readers, wait a moment before you laugh at him. Hear what
this eight-year-old boy did.

Once upon a time Solomon had composed the following somewhat startling
proverb, "It is a wise fellow who wrenches forth the serpent's fang."
Which dark saying, being interpreted, was, "If you are scared of
anything, just trot right up and wrestle with it."

"For," continued Solomon, in a speech to the other five, "that's the
only way to grow plucky.