L. Frank Baum by American Fairy Tales

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 the molasses running all
over the floor," said Jim, with a laugh.
    A little further down the street was a barber shop, and sitting in
the barber's chair Jim saw the man that all the boys declared was
the "meanest man in town." He certainly did not like the boys and
the boys knew it. The barber was in the act of shampooing this
person when Time was captured. Jim ran to the drug store, and,
getting a bottle of mucilage, he returned and poured it over the
ruffled hair of the unpopular citizen.
    "That'll probably surprise him when he wakes up," thought Jim.
    Near by was the schoolhouse. Jim entered it and found that only a
few of the pupils were assembled. But the teacher sat at his desk,
stern and frowning as usual.
    Taking a piece of chalk, Jim marked upon the blackboard in big
letters the following words:
    "Every scholar is requested to yell the minute he enters the room.
He will also please throw his books at the teacher's head. Signed,
Prof. Sharpe."
    "That ought to raise a nice rumpus," murmured the mischiefmaker, as
he walked away.
    On the corner stood Policeman Mulligan, talking with old Miss
Scrapple, the worst gossip in town, who always delighted in saying
something disagreeable about her neighbors. Jim thought this
opportunity was too good to lose. So he took off the policeman's cap
and brass-buttoned coat and put them on Miss Scrapple, while the
lady's feathered and ribboned hat he placed jauntily upon the
policeman's head.
    The effect was so comical that the boy laughed aloud, and as a good
many people were standing near the corner Jim decided that Miss
Scrapple and Officer Mulligan would create a sensation when Time
started upon his travels.
    Then the young cowboy remembered his prisoner, and, walking back to
the hitching post, he came within three feet of it and saw Father
Time still standing patiently within the toils of the lasso. He
looked angry and annoyed, however, and growled out:
    "Well, when do you intend to release me?"
    "I've been thinking about that ugly scythe of yours," said Jim.
    "What about it?" asked Father Time.
    "Perhaps if I let you go you'll swing it at me the first thing, to
be revenged," replied the boy.
    Father Time gave him a severe look, but said:
    "I've known boys for thousands of years, and of course I know
they're mischievous and reckless. But I like boys, because they grow
up to be men and people my world.