Chapter XXVII: Tempus Fugit

“No,” said the old grandfather clock to the green parrot, “I will not tell you another story. I have told so many that I am quite hoarse.” “I cannot think what you mean,” replied the parrot. “You have said nothing but tick-tock like a hen, and then you cluck loudly as though you had laid an egg, though you have in fact only mislaid an hour. That is not my idea of a story.”

“When you are my age,” said the clock, “you will realise that there is no other story.”