y. All the women in Marathon are talking
about it and neglecting their knitting. Junior's bath was half an hour
late today because Mrs. Benvenuto called me up to talk about daylight
saving. She says her cook has threatened to leave if she has to get up
an hour earlier in the morning. I was just wondering how to adjust my
watch to the new conditions."

"It's perfectly simple," I said. "Put your watch ahead one hour, and
then go through the same logarithms you always do."

"Put it ahead?" asked Titania. "Mrs. Borgia says we have to put the
clock _back_ an hour. She is fearfully worried about it. She says
suppose she has something in the oven when the clock is put back, it
will be an hour overdone and burned to a crisp when the kitchen clock
catches up again."

"Mrs. Borgia is wrong," I said. "The clocks are to be put ahead one
hour. At 2 o'clock on Easter morning they are to be turned on to 3
o'clock. Mrs. Borgia certainly won't have anything in the oven at that
time of night. You see, we are to pretend that 2 o'clock is really 3
o'clock, and when we get up at 7 o'clock it will really be 6 o'clock. We
are deliberately fooling ourselves in order to get an hour more of
daylight."

"I have an idea," she said, "that you won't get up at 7 that morning."

"It is quite possible," I said, "because I intend to stay up until 2
a.m. that morning in order to be exactly correct in changing our
timepieces. No one shall accuse me of being a time slacker."

Titania was wrinkling her brow. "But how about that lost hour?" she
said. "What happens to it? I don't see how we can just throw an hour
away like that. Time goes on just the same. How can we afford to shorten
our lives so ruthlessly? It's murder, that's what it is! I told you it
was a Bolshevik plot. Just think; there are a hundred million Americans.
Moving on the clock that way brings each of us one hour nearer our
graves. That is to say, we are throwing away 100,000,000 hours."

She seized a pencil and a sheet of paper and went through some
calculations.

"There are 8,760 hours in a year," she said. "Reckoning seventy years a
lifetime, there are 613,200 hours in each person's life. Now, will you
please divide that into a hundred million for me? I'm not good at long
division."

With docility I did so, and reported the result.

"About 163," I said.

"There you are!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "Throwing away all that
perfectly good time amounts simply to murdering 163 h