in the right direction, and if Bobo forgot and blundered
on the wrong way, the shoes swiftly began to pinch his toes.

For two days Bobo walked inland toward the great mountain. A warm wind
blew the clouds and rain away, the sun shone sweet and clear. On the
morning of the third day, the simpleton entered a wood of tall silent
trees, and as that day was drawing to a close, turrets of a magnificent
castle rose far away over the leaves of the forest.

Bobo arrived at twilight.

He found himself in a beautiful garden, lying between the castle walls
and the rising slopes of a great mountain. Strange to say, not a living
creature was to be seen, and though there were lights in the castle,
there was not even a warder at the gate. Suddenly a great booming bell
struck seven o'clock; Bobo began to hear voices and sounds; and then,
before the humming of the bell had died away, a youth mounted on a
splendid black horse dashed at lightning speed out of the castle and
disappeared in the wood. An old man with a white beard, accompanied by
eleven young men, whom Bobo judged, from their expressions, to be
brothers,--stood by the gate to see the horseman ride away.

Plucking up courage, Bobo came forward, fell on his knee before the old
man, and told his story.

"Truly, you should thank the storm fairies," said the old man; "for had
you not been wrecked upon this island, never would you have discovered
the lost half-hour. I am Father Time himself, and these are my twelve
sons, the Hours. Every day, one after the other, they ride for an hour
round the whole wide world. Seven O'clock has just ridden forth. Yes,
you shall have the lost half-hour, but you must look after my sons'
horses for the space of a whole year."

To this Bobo willingly agreed. So Twelve O'Clock, who was the youngest
of the Hours, took him to the stables and showed him the little room in
the turret that he was to have. And thus for a year Bobo served Father
Time and his sons. He took such good care of the great black horses of
the Hours of the Night, and the white horses of the Hours of the Day,
that they were never more proud and strong, nor their coats smoother and
more gleaming.

When the year was up, Bobo again sought out Father Time.

"You have served faithfully and well," said Father Time. "Here is your
reward." And, with these words, he placed in Bobo's hands a small square
casket made of ebony. "The half-hour lies inside. Don't try to peek at it
or op