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This Week's Stories

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CHIMES OF THE TIMES

© 1999 James David Pearce

There is a clock sitting on the mantel in our living room today ~ 1999 ~ that my wife rescued 50 years ago from a storage room after my mother moved from the old house in Ahoskie.

If you give the wind-up key a couple of turns every five days or so it will keep perfect time, except the big hand falls forward slightly on the down side and lags a little on the up side.

It chimes faithfully, once on the half-hour and the full count for the hour.

The amazing thing about the clock, a Seth Thomas, is that it is well over 100 years old. It was in my home when I was born and they stopped it temporarily there on the night my father died.

We were surprised that my mother hadn't clung to it in later years, and that she so readily said we could have it when Becky found it in the storage room.

A half-sister cleared that up for us after my mother was dead. She said the clock had belonged to my father's first wife (her mother) in their home in Phoebus VA, as far back as the early 1890s.

After daddy's first wife died and he married my mother, he put it on the mantel in their new home in Ahoskie.

I guess my mother put up with all the chiming to keep him happy.

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Rebecca Parker Pearce
and her 1890 clock

MR. PROFFITT AND THE ANTIQUES

© 2001 James David Pearce

Being a sociable type, Clem went down the porch steps and started up the walk almost as soon as the big black-and-white pickup turned into the driveway.

He met the affable-looking fellow in an open-neck shirt and dungarees about halfway between the driveway and the house.

"Howdy," said Clem.

"Howdy to you," said the man. "My name is Wayne Proffitt. Here is my business card.

"I," he said, "am a collector of collectibles. I'm looking for old, valuable things which I like to bid on and buy, and then sell.

"I was just up the street at this lady's house ~ she's moving to an assisted-living apartment ~ and I was looking over some of the furniture and other household items that she wants to dispose of before she goes.

"And as I was driving down this street ~ seeing you ~ this old fellow ~ no offense, please ~ leaning against this old porch-post with the old vase by the door and the old pitcher-pump in the front yard, I thought ~ well, maybe I should stop here and see if I can run across anything interesting.

"Do you perchance have anything old and interesting that might be ready for the market?"

"Well," said Clem. "Perchance I just do have a couple of things here that are old and fairly interesting ~ but I'm not too sure they are ready for the market.

"I have one thing that I know is 111 years old and quite interesting ~ that you might like to buy, but that I would not sell. That's my daddy's old Seth Thomas mantel clock. It's in the living room and has been ticking now since 1890.

"I have another thing here that is 98 years old and, yes, that I might be quite interested in parting with ~ but I don't think you would want to buy. That," went on Clem, "is my 98-year-old mother-in-law. She's in the back bedroom, probably fussin' just like she's been since 1903."

"Well, sir," said Mr. Proffitt. "I really don't think I'd be interested at all in your mother-in-law, antique though she is ~ but I certainly would like to get a look at that clock."

"Step right this way," said Clem. Motioning toward the clock, he said: "Five minutes fast. But things like that happen when you get old."

"Well, sir," said Mr. Proffitt, "that is a very interesting clock."

Then, switching on his savvy antique-buyer's look of unconcerned knowledge, he said, "But there were a lot of those clocks made back then. They don't bring too much money on the market, even if they do work. I doubt seriously that I could give more than $175 for that type of Seth Thomas.

"Now, if we can pick it up and look at the back and find some manufacturer's imprint or such, I might could go as high as $200."

"Mr. Proffitt," said Clem, "that clock has been sitting in that spot for over 50 years, since my wife rescued it when my mother broke up housekeeping. See that nickel under the right-front corner? That's there for leveling purposes.

"Now, for $200, I wouldn't move that clock two inches, manufacturer's imprint or no manufacturer's imprint."

"Well," spoke Mr. Proffitt, casting a glance around the room, "this old hall chest here, you know, that looks pretty good. That's probably worth $800 or so."

"No," said Thelma, Clem's wife, a new arrival on the scene.

Clem made the belated introduction. "Thelma, this is Mr. Proffitt. Mr. Proffitt, meet Thelma, my wife."

"Thelma," said Mr. Proffitt, "that old bookcase over there ~ I would say that's at least $200 ~ and that glass-front china cabinet, maybe another $200."

"No," said Thelma.

Christine came down the hall into the living room.

"Christine," said Clem, "this is Mr. Proffitt. He buys and sells antiques.

"He wanted to know if we had anything old we wanted to sell. I told him I had an 111-year-old clock that I wouldn't sell ~ and a 98-year-old mother-in-law.

"But I don't seem able to interest him in you at all."

"Hush," she told Clem. Turning to Mr. Proffitt, she said with great emphasis:

"I am not 98 years old. I am 97.

"I will not be 98 until next November."

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This Week's Verse

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My grandfather's clock
was too large for the shelf,
so it stood ninety years on the floor.
It was taller by half
than the old man himself,
though it weighed not a pennyweight more.
It was bought on the morn
of the day that he was born,
and was always his treasure and pride;
but it stopped short
never to go again,
when the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering,
tick, tock, tick, tock,
his life seconds numbering,
tick, tock, tick, tock,
it stopped short
never to go again,
when the old man died.

In watching its pendulum
swing to and fro,
many hours had he spent while a boy.
And in childhood and manhood
the clock seemed to know,
and to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four
when he entered at the door,
with a blooming and beautiful bride;
but it stopped short
never to go again,
when the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering,
tick, tock, tick, tock,
his life seconds numbering,
tick, tock, tick, tock,
it stopped short
never to go again,
when the old man died.

My grandfather said
that of those he could hire,
not a servant so faithful he found.
For it wasted no time,
and had but one desire,
at the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place,
not a frown upon its face,
and its hand never hung by its side.
But it stopped short
never to go again,
when the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering,
tick, tock, tick, tock,
his life seconds numbering,
tick, tock, tick, tock,
it stopped short
never to go again,
when the old man died.

It rang an alarm
in the dead of the night,
an alarm that for years had been dumb.
And we knew that his spirit
was preparing for flight,
that his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time,
with a soft and muffled chime,
as we silently stood by his side.
But it stopped short
never to go again,
when the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering,
tick, tock, tick, tock,
his life seconds numbering,
tick, tock, tick, tock,
it stopped short
never to go again,
when the old man died.
~~~
(Henry Clay Work. 1876.)

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Thought for This Week

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"Junior," said Boweaver, looking thoughtfully at the blue sky above the piney woods out behind Poor Town, "you know, if a buzzard wasn't a buzzard, he would be one really pretty bird."

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This Week's Mailbox

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...... (This is the) first time I've visited your site. Very interesting. Have you ever found the name "Hoard" in any of your research? If so, I would love to see it. ~ Bob Hoard, Newport News, Virginia.

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...... I was just reading Edition 6 (The Poor Town News) and found my father's and uncle's names under the boys listed as off to war. Wow! Thanks for all you do. ~ Claudia Harrell Williams, Fayetteville, NC.

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...... Great stuff, as usual. Keep 'em coming. (You know that if you work overtime on The Poor Town News they have to pay you time-and-a-half!) ~ Ron Lupton, Colorado.

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...... Oh my, oh my, oh my! ~ Those Last Wills and Testaments that lump the slaves "and their increase" with all the other properties are such an awful part of our history (The Poor Town News No. 51). Just unbelievable. Then to think of the presumption of ownership for "their increase," meaning all the generations to come were included in that ownership. It makes me very sorrowful to ponder this. Horrible! ~ Aggie Green, Traverse City, Michigan.

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...... Please add me to The Poor Town News mailing list. I was raised in Aulander, dated girlfriends from Poor Town, and later found that my Hollomons, Askews and Earlys came from that area ...... My mother was born and raised in Aulander, and her mother was born and raised on the Williford Farm between Earlys Station and Hexalena. Her father was born and raised on the Early Farm in Hexalena ...... I now live at Old Trap, 15 miles from Elizabeth City. I like to tell people that I have come a long way in life, from Trap (in Bertie County) to Old Trap (in Camden County). Keep up the good work. ~ Louis Early Stephenson, Old Trap, NC.

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...... I thought about you last night as I watched Bill Friday on 'Carolina People' talking with an 82-year-old Harkers Island resident who was a great storyteller. I presume that you know who Friday is ...... The question is if he knows about you and your stories. He seemed anxious to learn that his guest had documented his memories and was telling about them at local schools etc. If you haven't already done it, you should make him, and/or whatever archives he may be associated with, aware of your stories. Just a thought. ~ Kjell Petterson, Carteret County NC.

~
Kjell Petterson offers the following invitation
to readers of The Poor Town News:

Let's meet at my web site. We will discuss how personal web sites will change our daily lives, and we will vent some observations and opinions ...... If tennis is your game, there is a library of more than 25 pages. The latest (Nov. '02) shows how we run events via the Internet ...... The 'Neat Stuff' section will give you a few chuckles (latest update Nov. 9, '02) ...... Welcome to the Global Party, wherever you live! ~ Kjell.

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