1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
|
<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
<head>
<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
<title>
No-Time-Land, by M. J. C. Fulton—A Project Gutenberg eBook
</title>
<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
<style type="text/css">
/* DACSoft styles */
body {
margin-left: 10%;
margin-right: 10%;
}
/* General headers */
h1 {
page-break-before: always;
text-align: center;
clear: both;
}
/* Chapter headers */
h2 {
text-align: center;
font-weight: bold;
margin: .75em 0;
}
div.chapter {
page-break-before: always;
}
h2.nobreak {
page-break-before: avoid;
}
/* Indented paragraph */
p {
margin-top: .51em;
margin-bottom: .49em;
text-align: justify;
text-indent: 1em;
}
/* Unindented paragraph */
.noi {text-indent: 0em;}
/* Centered unindented paragraph */
.noic {
text-indent: 0em;
text-align: center;
}
/* Drop caps */
p.cap {text-indent: 0em;}
p.cap:first-letter {
float: left;
padding-right: 3px;
font-size: 250%;
line-height: 83%;
}
.x-ebookmaker p.cap:first-letter {
float: left;
padding-right: 3px;
font-size: 250%;
line-height: 83%;
}
/* Illustrated drop caps */
img.drop-cap {
float: left;
margin: 0 .75em 0 0;
}
p.drop-cap {text-indent: 0em;}
p.drop-cap:first-letter {
color: transparent;
visibility: hidden;
margin-left: -1em;
}
.x-ebookmaker img.drop-cap {
float: left;
margin: 0 .75em 0 0;
}
.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap:first-letter {
color: transparent;
visibility: hidden;
margin-left: -1em;
}
/* Non-standard paragraph margins */
.p2 {margin-top: 2em;}
.p4 {margin-top: 4em;}
.pad2 {
margin-top: 2em;
margin-bottom: 2em;
}
/* Horizontal rules */
hr {
width: 33%;
margin-top: 2em;
margin-bottom: 2em;
margin-left: 33.5%;
margin-right: 33.5%;
clear: both;
}
hr.chap {
width: 65%;
margin-left: 17.5%;
margin-right: 17.5%;
}
/* Physical book page and line numbers */
.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
/* visibility: hidden; */
position: absolute;
right: 3%;
/* left: 92%; */
font-size: x-small;
font-style: normal;
font-weight: normal;
font-variant: normal;
text-align: right;
color: gray;
} /* page numbers */
/* Blockquotes */
.blockquot {
margin-top: 1em;
margin-left: 20%;
margin-right: 20%;
margin-bottom: 1em;
}
/* Alignment */
.right {text-align: right;}
/* Text appearance */
.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;}
.oldenglish {font-family: "Old English Text MT",
"Engravers Old English BT",
"Old English",
"Collins Old English",
"New Old English",
serif;
}
/* Small fonts and lowercase small-caps */
.smfont {
font-size: .8em;
}
/* Illustration caption */
.caption {
font-size: .75em;
font-weight: bold;
}
/* Images */
img {
max-width: 100%; /* no image to be wider than screen or containing div */
height:auto; /* keep height in proportion to width */
}
.illowe3 {width: 3em;}
.illowe10 {width: 10em;}
.figcenter {
margin: auto;
text-align: center;
page-break-inside: avoid;
max-width: 90%; /* div no wider than screen, even when screen is narrow */
}
/* Poetry */
.poetry {
display: block;
text-align: left;
margin-left: 10%;
margin-right: 10%;
}
.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;}
.poetry .verse {
padding-left: 3em;
text-indent: -3em;
}
/* Poetry indents */
.poetry .indent0 {padding-left: 3em;}
.poetry .indent2 {padding-left: 4em;}
/* Transcriber's notes */
.tnote {
background-color: #E6E6FA;
margin-left: 10%;
margin-right: 10%;
padding: .5em;
}
.tntitle {
font-size: 1.25em;
font-weight: bold;
text-align: center;
clear: both;
}
/* Title page borders and content. */
.title {
font-size: 1.75em;
font-weight: bold;
text-align: center;
clear: both;
}
.subtitle {
font-size: 1.5em;
text-align: center;
clear: both;
}
.author {
font-size: 1.25em;
text-align: center;
clear: both;
}
/* Indents. */
.ident1 {
padding-left: 1em;
}
.ident2 {
padding-left: 2em;
}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 66237 ***</div>
<div class="figcenter" id="cover">
<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover" title="cover" />
</div>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
<div class="chapter">
<div class="figcenter" id="title_pg">
<img src="images/title_pg.jpg" alt="title page" title="title page" />
</div>
</div>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
<h1>No-Time-Land . .</h1>
<p class="p2 noi subtitle">A STORY</p>
<p class="noic">FOR . . .</p>
<p class="noi subtitle">GIRLS AND BOYS.</p>
<p class="p2 noic">. BY .</p>
<p class="noi author smcap">M. J. C. Fulton.</p>
<p class="p4 noic"><span class="oldenglish">Tasmania:</span><br />
<span class="smcap">Printed at The Examiner Office, Launceston</span>.<br />
1901.</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
<div class="chapter">
<div class="blockquot">
<div class="pad2">
<div class="figcenter" id="i_003a">
<img class="illowe10" src="images/i_003a.jpg" alt="decoration" title="decoration" />
</div>
</div>
<div><img class="drop-cap illowe3" src="images/t_dropcap.jpg" alt="T" title="T" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">To all my dear little Nephews, Nieces,
and other little boys and girls, this
Story is dedicated, trusting they will derive both
amusement and profit from its pages.</p>
<p>Wishing them all a “Happy New Century.”</p>
<p>From their affectionate Aunt and Friend,</p>
<p class="right">MARY J. C. FULTON.</p>
<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Leith,</span><br />
<span class="ident1 smcap">Tasmania,</span><br />
<span class="ident2 smcap">December, 1900.</span></p>
<div class="pad2">
<div class="figcenter" id="i_003b">
<img class="illowe10" src="images/i_003b.jpg" alt="decoration" title="decoration" />
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[5]</span></p>
<p class="noi title">A STORY OF NO-TIME-LAND.</p>
<div class="figcenter" id="i_005">
<img class="illowe10" src="images/i_005.jpg" alt="chapter decoration" title="chapter decoration" />
</div>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</h2>
</div>
<p class="cap">“Guy, come and play with me.”</p>
<p>“Oh! I can’t, Tina, I have no time;
I am going fishing soon with Urie Cass.”</p>
<p>“Oh, dear!” said the little voice; “you
never get time, Guy, to have a game.”</p>
<p>“Cannot you have one game with her,
sonny!” said his mother; “the wee girlie is
dull playing by herself all day.”</p>
<p>“But mother, dear, I have no time now,”
and so saying, Guy shouldered his fishing
rod and walked off.</p>
<p>But his mother’s sad, grieved expression
seemed to haunt him all day, and his little
sister’s voice echoed so in his ears, that the
fishing was not altogether such an enjoyable<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span>
time as he expected. He got back tired
and hungry, and soon after tea he was glad
to go to bed.</p>
<p>He was just dropping off to sleep, when his
eyes seemed to wander to the open window,
where the moonbeams were dancing in, as
if they had come to see what sort of a room
it was, and what the inmate was like. They
are inquisitive little things, you know; both
moonbeams and sunbeams. They like to
get into all the odd dark corners, and if
people are dirty and slovenly in their work,
they show up the dust, and dirt, as much as
to say: “Oh, fie, for shame, you slovenly
creatures!”</p>
<p>Just as Guy’s eyes alighted on the windows
<a href="#i_006fp">he saw two ladies come floating in on the
moonbeams</a>. “There he is,” one of them
whispered, “that is the little boy who has no
time. Let us carry him off to No-Time-Land.”</p>
<div class="figcenter" id="i_006fp">
<img src="images/i_006fp.jpg" alt="" title="" />
<div class="caption">
<p class="noic"><a href="#Page_6">“<i>He saw two ladies come floating in on the moonbeams.</i>”</a></p>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span></p>
<p>Guy was fascinated at the beauty of his
visitors; so much so that he never thought
of hiding under the bed-clothes; but it would
have been little use if he had done so, for
these kind of ladies see everything, like the
fairies of fairyland. They lifted him up; it
was no use his struggling, for he seemed
quite powerless and unable to move a limb.
While they were carrying him, Guy noticed
they were very pretty. Gueldine, as her
companion called her, had golden hair and
large brown eyes, with golden brown lashes
and eyebrows, the other had chestnut brown
hair, and large blue eyes, with dark brown
lashes and eyebrows; her name was Crystal.</p>
<p>They ought to have changed eyes, he
thought: but perhaps they would not have
looked so nice? His eyes next went to their
dresses. Gueldine’s dress was pure white,
with a gold thread interwoven through it, and
a gold sash with long ends. It gave her<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span>
a very dazzling appearance. On her hair
she wore a crescent moon of diamonds and
rubies. Crystal’s dress was white, with
silver interwoven, a silver sash with long
ends; in her hair were stars made of
diamonds and sapphires.</p>
<p>Away they went, over hills and water, then
he caught sight of dim grey hills in the
distance, as they drew nearer to them the
two ladies exclaimed—“Here we are in No-Time-Land.”</p>
<p>They floated across to the nearest town,
and placed him on a bench in the middle of
one of the parks, as it was getting daylight,
and said, “Good-by, little boy, we have no
time to stop,” and away they went. Guy
watched them till he could see them no
longer, and as it was fast getting daylight,
and things were becoming clearer every
minute, he roused himself, as he found now
he could move, and looked around. Dear<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span>
me! What a dreadful untidy-looking place;
and so it was, for papers were lying about
everywhere. In the centre of the square
was a fountain, but it was broken; the wall
round the basin was crumbling and falling
to pieces; the water seemed stagnant, the
flower beds, and grass lawns were overgrown
with weeds, and everything looked
sadly neglected and forlorn. A boy came
sauntering along, so Guy said to him—“Boy;
why does your park look so neglected
and untidy?” The boy stared at him.</p>
<p>“Are you a stranger?” he asked at last.</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Guy.</p>
<p>“Well,” said the other; “no one has time
here to put it right.”</p>
<p>“Are they so busy,” asked Guy.</p>
<p>“Too busy to answer your questions,” replied
the other, and walked off.</p>
<p>“No time either for manners,” shouted
Guy; but the boy was out of earshot, so did
not hear.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span></p>
<p>“I will go into the town,” he thought, “and
see what it is like,” so got up and strolled
about; but everywhere he went the same
neglect met his eyes. He became very hungry
after a while, and seeing a young woman
hurrying along, went up to her.</p>
<p>“Is there any place here where I can get
something to eat, please ma’am,” asked Guy.</p>
<p>“Oh! I have no time to talk to little
boys,” she said.</p>
<p>Again and again he asked the same question,
and received the same reply. He at
last saw a pastry cook’s shop, and went in.
People kept coming in and ordering things,
and, eating them, went out, saying, “I have
no time to pay, put it down.” A little girl
came in and asked for two penny buns.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you pay for them?” asked
Guy.</p>
<p>“No one pays here,” she said, “we have no
time.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span></p>
<p>How dreadfully dishonest, he thought.</p>
<p>“Please ma’am,” said Guy, “I am so hungry,
can you give me some bread and butter
and milk? but I have no money to pay for
it.”</p>
<p>She handed him a couple of rolls and
some butter on a plate, also a large tumbler
of hot milk.</p>
<p><a href="#i_011fp">“Never mind about money,” she said; “I
have no time to take it.</a> I will just put it
down,” and she immediately started to eat a
cake.</p>
<div class="figcenter" id="i_011fp">
<img src="images/i_011fp.jpg" alt="" title="" />
<div class="caption">
<p class="noic"><a href="#Page_11">“<i>Never mind about money,” she said; “I have no time to take it.</i>”</a></p>
</div>
</div>
<p>Guy began to laugh, saying—“That’s a
funny way to put it down.”</p>
<p>“No time for anything else,” she replied.</p>
<p>Guy sighed. I am getting quite tired
hearing those words, he thought to himself,
“No time, no time,” always dinned into one’s
ears. As he had finished his meal he went
out.</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</h2>
</div>
<p>Seeing a number of children going to
school, he followed them in, and sat down
with them.</p>
<p>They all started as the schoolmaster came
in to sing—</p>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent0">We have no time to learn our lessons,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">No time! no time at all,</div>
<div class="verse indent0">We do not want to gain any sense,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">As we have no sense like Paul.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>“I suppose Paul is the schoolmaster,” said
Guy to the girl sitting next to him.</p>
<p>“What is your name?” she asked.</p>
<p>“Guy,” he answered.</p>
<p>Then they all began to sing again—</p>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent0">There was a little boy,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">And he was called a guy,</div>
<div class="verse indent0">He wished to know Oom Paul;</div>
<div class="verse indent2">But like the rest of us,</div>
<div class="verse indent0">He had no sense at all.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span></p>
<p>Guy became very angry upon hearing this,
and began himself to sing—</p>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent0">You have no sense at all!</div>
<div class="verse indent2">You need not tell me so.</div>
<div class="verse indent0">I’ve no time to talk to you,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">So I’ll take my hat and go.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>“School is dismissed,” said the schoolmaster,
“I have no time to-day to hear lessons.”</p>
<p>Guy went down a narrow lane, or passage,
it seemed, as it was carpeted; he saw
a little boy crying.</p>
<p>“What’s the matter?” said Guy.</p>
<p>“I have no time to tell you,” he said.</p>
<p>“Oh, rubbish,” said Guy; “make time.”</p>
<p>The boy looked up in surprise.</p>
<p>“Why that is what they used to say to me
before I came down here. But I am not
clever, and I cannot make anything, not
even time.”</p>
<p>Guy was disgusted.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span></p>
<p>“No;” he said, “stupids like you want a
good beating, and I would like to give you
one, only I think it would be a waste of time
to give you even that.”</p>
<p>“I did not know time had a waist,” said
the boy. “I thought it was only people.”</p>
<p>“You thickhead,” said Guy, and walked
off.</p>
<p>“What funny words he uses,” said the boy
“I wonder where he comes from? But, oh
dear; I have no time to think.”</p>
<p>Almost at the end of the passage Guy
came to a large eight-day clock; he stood
and gazed at it with surprise; and well he
might. For the clock was fixed upon a
long stick; in the centre of the clock the
eyes and lips moved as if it was alive. Outside
the face it had figures all round, in order
to tell the time of day. The arms and hands
protruded from the sides of the clock like
numerous arms and hands; which gave it<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span>
rather an odd look. The pendulum hung
below, swinging backwards and forwards.
Just as Guy was looking at him, the clock
opened his mouth, rolled up his eyes, and
began to sing—</p>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent0">Tick, tick, I’m a clock upon a stick;</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Never on a shelf I’ll stay;</div>
<div class="verse indent0">But in this no-time-land</div>
<div class="verse indent0">Upon a stick I’ll stand,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">And my pendulum will wag all day.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>“Dear me,” said Guy; “I’ve heard something
like that before; but it sounds all
wrong?”</p>
<p>“Everything is wrong in this land,” said
the clock.</p>
<p>“How is that?” asked Guy.</p>
<p>“No time,” said the clock.</p>
<p>“Did you ever study?” again asked Guy.</p>
<p>“Study?” questioned the clock, in a tone
of surprise. “I have heard of a person
being in a brown study, if that is what you
mean.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span></p>
<p>“No, no! Study the time,” said Guy. “If
you studied time you might manage to get
along better, you know.”</p>
<p>“Oh! I get along alright,” said the clock;
“only if there is no time, how can you study
it?” He gave such a loud tick, and pulled
such a funny grimace that it frightened Guy,
so he began to run; and, as he turned the
corner, seeing no one was after him, he
stopped to take breath, and there right in
front of him was a large open piece of
ground, in the centre of which was a summer
house, and roads branching all ways
from it, and sign-posts saying where each
road led to.</p>
<div class="figcenter" id="i_016">
<img class="illowe10" src="images/i_016.jpg" alt="chapter decoration" title="chapter decoration" />
</div>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</h2>
</div>
<p>Guy read some of the signs. One was to
the land Selfishness, another to Forgetfulness.
To the land of Put-off, and By-and-by.
Another was I Can’t and I Won’t.</p>
<p>“Oh, dear! They are all as bad as the one
I am in, and I’ve no time to read any more.
Dear! Dear! I am always saying no time
myself now;” and, feeling very miserable,
he entered the arbour, sat down on one of
the cane chairs, and, putting his arms on the
table, rested his head on them.</p>
<p>“What a dreadful muddle things have got
into.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps you have stirred up the mud,”
said a voice.</p>
<p>Guy started! “The only sensible thing I
have heard yet,” he thought; and, looking<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span>
up, saw on the mantelpiece—he never noticed
a fireplace in the arbour before—a little old
man holding a scroll.</p>
<p>“May I ask your name, please sir?” said
Guy.</p>
<p>“Mr. Memory-Pricker,” replied the little
man; “but I am called M.P. for short.”</p>
<p>“Why, that stands for member of Parliament
too,” said Guy.</p>
<p>“Well, it is the same thing,” answered the
little man. “You see, ‘Parle’ in French
means to speak. So it is meant, that I,
an active member, speak to, and prick up,
people’s memories; it is what people would
call a play upon words; only you have a way
of putting it backwards.”</p>
<p>“Please, sir, can you tell me why this is
called No-Time-Land; at least, how it got
its name?”</p>
<p>“Well, I think I can,” said the M.P. “You
must have noticed people hurrying along<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span>
bent on some great purpose, but they never
seem to attain that purpose; or to put it still
plainer, they want to do some great thing,
or even little things, but they never get time,
they say, to do them, so all their great and
little ideas end in simple talk. Consequently,
and in fact, all lazy people who say they
have no time, are sent to No-Time-Land.”</p>
<p>“Do they ever leave here? Mr. M.P.”</p>
<p>“Sometimes,” said the little man, “when
they stray into my arbour, I prick up their
memories; they occasionally turn over a new
leaf then, if they wish to overcome their
bad habits; but it is not often,” sighed he,
“not often!”</p>
<p>“May I ask what you use the scroll for,
please sir?”</p>
<p>“Yes; this is my scrap book. I am a
collector of poetry, wise sayings, and various
other things of interest. Here is a piece—you
may like to read.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span></p>
<p>Guy got up and went close to the scroll,
and read these lines—</p>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent0">No time like the present</div>
<div class="verse indent2">To do the things that are right;</div>
<div class="verse indent0">If you let your chances slip,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">They may vanish from your sight.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent0">Then do the thing that’s right,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Find time to help another;</div>
<div class="verse indent0">Let love be the golden rule,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">No time lost in endeavour.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>“I like that,” said Guy. “I think I will
have a try, too.”</p>
<p>“Small beginnings may lead to great endings,”
said the Memory Pricker.</p>
<p>Ting, ting, went a bell. A great noise
arose. Guy hurried out to see what it was
all about. People were hurrying along,
shouting “Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!”</p>
<p>“Kill who?” cried Guy, running up to a
small boy.</p>
<p>“Time, of course;” said the boy.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span></p>
<p>“But why kill him,” cried Guy. “What
has he done?”</p>
<p>“You simpleton,” said the other, “have
you never heard of ‘People killing time’ or
‘Murdering the time’?”</p>
<p>“Yes I have,” remarked Guy; “but instead
of ‘Killing’ him, suppose you try and ‘Keep’
time my boy?” so saying, Guy stuck out his
leg and tripped him up. Guy heard Mr. Time
laugh and shout out—</p>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent0">Tick, tick, said the clock upon a stick,</div>
<div class="verse indent0">“Pride will have a fall,” they say.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>But Guy heard no more, for he had to
run, as the little boy was chasing him. He
ran and ran till he was nearly out of breath,
and thought the boy would soon catch him,
as he was gaining on him fast.</p>
<p>When he heard someone shaking him,
and saying, “Guy, dear! Guy, wake up! the
breakfast bell has rung, and you will be late
for school.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span></p>
<p>“Oh! Mother,” said Guy, “can it all be
only a dream?”</p>
<p>“Yes, sonny; you have been very fast
asleep; but hurry, now, and you can tell me
your dream as soon as you are dressed.”</p>
<p>While he was eating his breakfast, he told
his mother his dream.</p>
<p>“Was it not a strange dream, Mother?”</p>
<p>“Yes, dearie; but strange dreams are often
sent us for some wise purpose, if we have
only the wisdom to understand the meaning
of them.”</p>
<p>“You mean, Mother, it was sent to break
me of my fault of always saying ‘I have no
time.’”</p>
<p>His mother smiled, and said “Just that,
sonny!”</p>
<p>In after years, Guy used to say that dream
of his was at the bottom of all his success
in life, as he mastered a bad fault, and at last
quite gave up saying “I have no time,” but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span>
always “found time” for everything, not
only in doing his own work, but also in
helping others, so that his life became a truly
happy and useful one.</p>
<p>And now, dear little readers, will you also
try and overcome your faults? Not in your
own strength, for then you will surely fail;
but in the strength of Him, who said “Be
ye perfect, even as your Father in Heaven is
perfect.” Then you, too, can claim the promise,
which is this:—“He that overcometh
shall inherit all things, and I will be his God,
and he shall be my son.”—Rev. xxi. 7.</p>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent0">“Time is short,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">If idly spent, no art or care</div>
<div class="verse indent0">Time’s blessing can restore;</div>
<div class="verse indent2">And God requires a strict account</div>
<div class="verse indent0">For every misspent hour.”</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class="p2 noic"><i>Printed at The Examiner Office,<br />
Launceston, Tasmania.</i></p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="tnote">
<p class="noi tntitle">Transcriber’s Note:</p>
<p class="smfont">Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.</p>
</div>
<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 66237 ***</div>
</body>
</html>
|
