At Maltby I was full half a minute behind the great clock, and on I went again.

At the next station the clock and I both gave the same time to a second, and then what must he do but begin to regulate me! After a minute calculation he made the astounding discovery that I had lost a minute and a quarter in four hours, and that in order to compensate for this shortcoming it would be necessary for him to move my regulator forward the two hundred and fortieth part of an inch.

This feat he set himself to accomplish with the point of his scarf-pin while the train was jolting forward at the rate of thirty miles an hour! I began to grow nervous.

If this was a sample of what I was to expect, I had indeed need be the healthy, hardy watch I was represented to be by my maker.
And yet I could not be angry with my brave, honest little tormentor.
It was a sight to see him during that long journey, in all the glory of a new suit, with a high hat on his head for the first time, and a watch in his pocket.

_In_ his pocket, did I say?
I was hardly ever so lucky.
Every five minutes he whipped me out to see how the time was going.