THE GODMOTHER TELLS LITTLE TOM STORIES.
LITTLE TOM FINDS HIMSELF IN A CLOCK WITH
A CUCKOO AND THINKS HE IS IN AN ENCHANTED
CASTLE.
WHAT ADVENTURES HE HAD IN THE CLOCK.

The Godmother was very sorry that she had told Little Tom so many things he had not understood. She realized that it would be impossible to tell him all about the world until he had seen it for himself; so, taking him in her hand, she carried him from the bed to the hearth, from there to the cupboard, then to the door and the window. Everything she showed him she called by name and explained the uses of the different things so that he might understand and, another time, not lose his way.

Then she placed him on the floor and Tom, looking around, measured the distances with his eye, so that he would know how far he would have to travel to each object. He crawled around the corners, examined the feet of the furniture and remembered all the things she told him could be moved, like the chairs, the poker and the foot-stool, so that he could make no mistakes as to his whereabouts in case he could not find one of the household articles in its place. Very soon he learned to know the whole room as well as his own dwelling, and the Godmother, when she left him in the morning, found she could put him on the floor without fear and permit him to run where he pleased and to examine everything; but she was afraid to take him outside the hut lest something should injure him or he should get lost.

Little Tom was quite satisfied, for his explorations kept him busy. Every evening, he told his Godmother all the things he had found under the cupboard and the linen press and around the hearth, and she was surprised to learn how her room appeared when looked at from the floor.

Then she told him more stories and became as interested herself in the fairy tales as when she first heard them as a child. Often they sat thus together even into the night. Little Tom could not hear enough of the sweet princesses taken away by the wizards into deep caverns; the brave heroes fighting the dragons and the witches; the glass castles which revolved on the nightmare's foot; the valiant tailor who fought with the giants; the clever shoemaker who had a magic sack; and of how the strong blacksmith cheated the devil and death.

But, best of all, he liked the story of the enchanted castle, suspended high above the earth. This castle seemed deserted, but whoever could sleep there three nights, and, without saying a word, let himself be tormented and tortured by the wicked spirits, would set free a beautiful princess who had been enchanted by a witch. And so, one day, a brave lad hid himself in the bucket which was lowered each morning to the earth and let himself be pulled up to the castle, where he stayed three nights. Every night he heard terrible noises; the spirits came and pounded him, pinched him and squeezed him; but he valiantly stood the torture and never spoke, screamed or cried out with pain. After the third night, an enormous griffin flew in the window, bearing on his back the beautiful princess who had been freed. The brave lad also climbed on his back and the griffin flew with them down to the earth. There he married the princess and they lived happily together ever afterwards in their kingdom.

Little Tom liked the manly courage of this hero. He seemed braver than all the other knights, for he knew how to suffer and bear torture and to sacrifice himself for the poor princess. Tom thought that such sacrifice was more beautiful than all the heroic deeds. He wished that he could have such an adventure and give himself to torture, so that he might free a princess.

One morning, before going to the field, the Godmother placed Tom on the floor as usual, and then went out to get Speckle. As Tom ran about the room, he came suddenly upon a great brass cylinder.

Never before had he seen it there and he wondered what it could be. He wanted to climb up but it was so round and so smooth that he could find no foothold. He ran to the hearth and taking a strong twig which he rested against the cylinder clambered to the top; but when he got there his twig slipped and fell down on the floor.

Tom then noticed that on the top of the cylinder was a little depression and, in its centre, a hook from which a strong chain ran up in the air. He seated himself by this hook and was almost breathless when he thought that it might be a bucket lowered to the earth by its great chain from an enchanted castle in the sky. He sat waiting for the chain to pull him up, trembling with pleasure at the thought that he would get into the castle and rescue the enchanted princess.

He was not at all afraid of the pain or the torture, for he knew that if he did not cry out, the great bird would fly into the castle bearing the princess he had set free.

At that moment, the Godmother returned, took up her cloak and was about to leave the room again when she suddenly remembered that she had forgotten to wind the clock. So she went to the wall, and taking hold of the little hook, lifted the run-down weight from the floor to the clock. She did not notice Little Tom sitting on the weight; but he heard a terrible noise and felt himself hoisted by the chain into the sky. He did not speak or cry out, for he knew if he should make a noise, the evil spirits would tear him to pieces.

The Godmother went out to her work in the field and there sat Little Tom on the weight at a dizzy height, up in the air under the enchanted castle. The rattling of the chain had ceased, but above him in the castle, Tom heard a strong voice repeating, »Tick, tack, tick, tack«.

At first Tom was frightened by this moving spectre, but he soon discovered that it never went away from the wall. This calmed his fears and he decided that he would go farther into the dark rooms of the castle, in spite of the poisonous odors that came from them.

Returning to his chain he clambered higher and higher, until he came to the powerful cylinder around which the chain was wound. Everywhere, it was dusty and musty with much dark, greasy slime which soiled his hands and clothes. Such a desolate, lonely castle he had never dreamed could exist. Nowhere, a living soul.

Little Tom sat down on the big cylinder, waiting to see what would happen and wondering what tortures lay before him. Resolutely, he said to himself that he would not scream, no matter if the spectres should tear him into little pieces.

Suddenly, the cylinder under him moved and shook so that he nearly fell off; but he caught hold of the chain and lay quite still, stretched out to his full length. Then he saw something bright, and directly above him move, and the giant tooth of a great wheel bent over and caught him by the coat. Tom thought that his torture was about to begin, but he resolved that he, would not give up easily; so, bravely grasping the tooth itself, he pulled himself up with all his strength until he sat astride the great wheel.

Now, he felt easier, but the wheel started to move carrying him still higher. In a moment, he was lifted high above the great cylinder and saw another wheel, with other great teeth approaching, which fitted closely into the notches of the wheel on which he sat and, with powerful force, turned it up and up. He was afraid that he would be caught between the two, so climbing over his wheel, he worked his way back to the cylinder; but this was also moving, so that he could not stand upright on it. As his eyes had by this time become accustomed to the darkness, he saw about him in every direction, wheels, levers, teeth and cylinders. Everything was moving and turning around. Poor little Tom was suddenly snatched by a great metal talon which almost tore out his shoulder and he was terribly pinched, squeezed and pressed.

Setting his teeth so that he would not cry out, he drew his dagger and cut away a piece of his coat, which was already caught between the two cylinders, and sprang blindly to one side, not knowing where he would land. His hand touched an upright steel post which he grasped firmly and, climbing upward, he reached a great globe that seemed to stand quite still. Here he felt safe for the moment, but he knew that this was not the end of his tortures.

Close to the globe was a large, metal vessel, to which he clambered and, working his way to the top, where it was fastened, sat down to rest. He hoped that this would not move. From his safe perch he looked below him into the tangle of wheels and teeth and levers, where everything was rustling, growling, and whirring. From all this he had barely escaped with his life.

He wondered how long he had been bearing this torture and when it would end. While he sat there thinking, all of a sudden the globe which he had just left, raised itself, something below rustled and the globe struck itself against the vessel with a deafening clang. The great vessel trembled and resounded with a terrible noise, so that Tom almost fell from his seat. He perceived that this was a new kind of torture, worse even than the first. His arms and legs shook with the vibration, his spine prickled and his head began to whirl. Again the globe beat against the vessel, and again. The clock was sounding three quarters of the hour.

Tom sprang from the bell to the bird and cried out victoriously. He thought that his torture was at an end and that he had broken the spell of the enchanted castle. Now, he wanted to find the princess he had set free. But, suddenly, the doors closed with a bang, catching Tom between them and squeezing him so hard that he nearly lost his breath. He was terribly afraid, fearing lest he had cried out too soon and spoiled the rescue and now would be torn to pieces by the spectres.

He struggled in vain to tear himself loose. Below him, the clock was moaning and groaning; and, far down, he looked into the depths of the chasm. Already, he bade farewell to the world and started shouting at the top of his lungs.

At this moment, his Godmother came in from the field and, hearing the clock rattling, she wondered what could be the matter with it, that it should make such a noise. Looking at the partly closed doors, she perceived that something was caught between them. Stepping up on a chair, she saw Little Tom struggling and crying for help. She released him at once and carried him safely down. He told her what had happened saying that he wanted to rescue the princess in the enchanted castle, but had spoiled the rescue by crying out too soon.

This time, the Godmother did not laugh at him. She was afraid that he had been hurt and was very sorry that her stories had brought him into such danger. For a long time, Tom could not believe that he had been mistaken and that in the clock there were no spectres. She raised him up to the dial plate, showed him the painted roses and the numbers, explaining all about them and showing how the little hands worked all by themselves, day and night, to tell how the time was passing. He became very much encouraged, as he began to understand. Then he sat astride the long hand as if he were on a horse and liked it so much, that the Godmother had to warn him not to slide down and kill himself.