"
He to whom the tinker had spoken made no answer.
"Good night," said the tinker, turning. "A Merry Christmas to
thee, boy, an' peace an' plenty."
"I have peace, and you have given me plenty to think about," said
Trove.
On his way home the boy thought of the stranger at the stairs,
wondering if he were the other tinker of whom Darrel had told him.
At his lodging he found a new pair of boots with only the Christmas
greeting on a card.
"Well," said Trove, already merrier than most of far better
fortune, "he must have been somebody that knew my needs."
VII
Darrel of the Blessed Isles
The clock tinker was off in the snow paths every other week. In
more than a hundred homes, scattered far along road lines of the
great valley, he set the pace of the pendulums. Every winter the
mare was rented for easy driving and Darrel made his journeys
afoot. Twice a day Trove passed the little shop, and if there were
a chalk mark on the dial, he bounded upstairs to greet his friend.
Sometimes he brought another boy into the rare atmosphere of the
clock shop--one, mayhap, who needed some counsel of the wise old
man.
Spring had come again. Every day sowers walked the hills and
valleys around Hillsborough, their hands swinging with a godlike
gesture that summoned the dead to rise; everywhere was the odour of
broken field or garden.
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