"
Dorry stared with open mouth at the clock, which was still striking
as though it would split its sides. Elsie, screaming with laughter,
kept count.
"Thirty, Thirty-one--Oh, Dorry! Thirty-two! Thirty-three! Thirty-four!"
"You've bewitched it, Dorry!" said Katy, as much entertained as the
rest.
Then they all began counting. Dorry seized the clock--shook it, slapped
it, turned it upside-down. But still the sharp, vibrating sounds
continued, as if the clock, having got its own way for once, meant to go
on till it was tired out. At last, at the one-hundred-and-thirtieth
stroke, it suddenly ceased; and Dorry, with a red, amazed countenance,
faced the laughing company.
"It's very queer," he said, "but I'm sure it's not because of anything I
did. I can fix it, though, if you'll let me try again. May I, Katy? I'll
promise not to hurt it."
For a moment Katy hesitated. Clover pulled her sleeve, and
whispered, "Don't!" Then seeing the mortification on Dorry's face,
she made up her mind.
"Yes! take it, Dorry. I'm sure you'll be careful. But if I were you, I'd
carry it down to Wetherell's first of all, and talk it over with them.
Together you could hit on just the right thing.
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