e again and rode up the street. As he passed the
shop of his friend, the butcher, he noticed several pieces of meat
hanging outside.

"I'm afraid that meat'll spoil," he remarked.

"It takes Time to spoil meat," answered the old man.

This struck Jim as being queer, but true.

"It seems Time meddles with everything," said he.

"Yes; you've made a prisoner of the most important personage in the
world," groaned the old man; "and you haven't enough sense to let
him go again."

Jim did not reply, and soon they came to his uncle's house, where he
again dismounted. The street was filled with teams and people, but
all were motionless. His two little cousins were just coming out the
gate on their way to school, with their books and slates underneath
their arms; so Jim had to jump over the fence to avoid knocking them
down.

In the front room sat his aunt, reading her Bible. She was just
turning a page when Time stopped. In the dining-room was his uncle,
finishing his luncheon. His mouth was open and his fork poised just
before it, while his eyes were fixed upon the newspaper folded
beside him. Jim helped himself to his uncle's pie, and while he ate
it he walked out to his prisoner.

"There's one thing I don't understand," said he.

"What's that?" asked Father Time.

"Why is it that I'm able to move around while everyone else
is--is--froze up?"

"That is because I'm your prisoner," answered the other. "You can do
anything you wish with Time now. But unless you are careful you'll
do something you will be sorry for."

Jim threw the crust of his pie at a bird that was suspended in the
air, where it had been flying when Time stopped.

"Anyway," he laughed, "I'm living longer than anyone else. No one
will ever be able to catch up with me again."

"Each life has its allotted span," said the old man. "When you have
lived your proper time my scythe will mow you down."

"I forgot your scythe," said Jim, thoughtfully.

Then a spirit of mischief came into the boy's head, for he happened
to think that the present opportunity to have fun would never occur
again. He tied Father Time to his uncle's hitching post, that he
might not escape, and then crossed the road to the corner grocery.

The grocer had scolded Jim that very morning for stepping into a
basket of turnips by accident. So the boy went to the back end of
the grocery and turned on the faucet of the molasses barrel.

"That'll make a nice mess when Time starts