An eight-day clock, which was
carefully and lovingly wound up by the prudent Mrs. Fancy Quinglet every
morning and evening, snored peacefully in a recess by the hearth, and,
from a crevice near the window, the bright, intelligent eyes of a couple
of well-developed black-beetles--mother and son--contentedly surveyed
the cheerful scene.
The Prophet, after a moment's pause of contemplation, passed on through
a swing door, covered with green baize, and down some stairs to the
inner courts of this interesting region. This time he came to anchor in
a room which, he thought, might well have been a butler's pantry had it
contained a large-sized telescope. It was in fact the parlour set apart
for the use of the kitchen and scullery maids, and was brightly fitted
up with a dresser, a cupboard for skewers, a rolling-pin, a basting
machine, and other similar adjuncts. It gave on to the kitchen, in which
the cat of the house was enjoying well-earned slumber in the attitude of
a black ball. So far his exploring tour had quite fulfilled the rather
vague expectations of the Prophet, but he now began to feel anxious.
Time was passing on and he had sworn to be at the telescope by eleven
sharp.
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