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Мышь Гликерия и хорошие сны
One time, Glyceria the mouse decided to get herself a clock.
So useless. Yet so pretty!
Glyceria was very fond of pretty things. She kept many such trinkets in her top drawer already. Each trinket was stored in a tiny bag, box or casket of its own.
Glyceria’s friends and close ones were sure to think of her if they ever lost use for something. Why throw something out when you can give it to Glyceria?. It would make her very happy, they thought, for her to place whatever things she gets into her top drawer. A very organized drawer, in fact. Shards from broken blue Christmas ornaments, for instance, would be kept in a white box with blue candy wrappers glued onto it. Those that are red would be stored in a silvery bag of chips. Peach pits laid together in a cookie box. And buttons hanged together on a single string. And so on.
Every Wednesday, Glyceria marvelled at her drawer collection. Sometimes, even on Tuesdays.
One could have found anything in Glyceria’s drawer. There are bits of velvet cloth, silk laces, plain beads and pearly beads, broken manicure scissors, shards from porcelain cups ornate with flowers and from mirrors, wrappers from dark chocolate, river shells, foreign coins, helicopter seeds from maple trees, three glass caps (from real perfume bottles!), a leather bag zipper, a copper spring, a marmalade spoon, five wallpaper nails with starred heads, dried figs, mica powder, tiger striped watermelon seeds, and the ornament shards, peach pits, and buttons that you’ve seen by now.
Only one thing was missing. A clock.
“Would you be so kind to offer me a clock, please?” Glyceria asked the shopkeeper.
“What a useful thing you’ve come for today!” remarked the impressed shopkeeper. “Here is my best one.”
Glyceria stopped to think. If a clock is as useful as she’s told, then she needs to find a use for it.
But Glyceria didn’t know how to use a clock.
“It’s simple,” explained the shopkeeper. “Get a strong nail, use it to hang the clock up on a wall, and just look at the clock. Sometimes.”
How strangely does the seller promote this clock! thought Glyceria. Say, with my chocolate wrappers, I simply take them out of their little folder and look at them. They serve no other use. They are very flashy, yet charmingly useless.
If all you need to do with a clock is to look at it - sometimes - thought Glyceria, then it is as charming and as useless as she needs. I’ll take them, decided the mouse.
She double checked whether to use a regular nail or a wallpaper nail to hang up her clock on the wall, and briskly ran home, her clock in hand.
By now, the clock was already on the wall. For Glyceria, it made a pretty sight. Its long, ticking tail was so lovely. And the arms were exquisitely shiny.
Suddenly, Glyceria got a call from her neighbor.
“I hear you got yourself a new clock?” asked the neighbor.
“Yeah, the best one they had,” said Glyceria, startled by the question.
“Perhaps that means you’ll finally visit us on time today?”
“Of course!” Glyceria nodded her head as she answered. “I’m already preparing to head out.”
“You can make it in half an hour, right?” inquired the neighbour skeptically.
“Yup, in half an hour!” Glyceria was eager to agree.
“Maybe, it would be better to meet in 15 minutes?”
“In fifteen minutes!” Glyceria didn’t want to argue. She hanged up and continued to adore herself with the clock.
Fiftinminitz. Such a nice sounding word, thought Glyceria. I should have asked my neighbor what it meant.
Suddenly, something wheezed! The clock made a BONK! And another one! Several times!
“Oh, stop it! You’re making me scared!” squealed Glyceria.
The clock didn’t listen to her, of course. It stopped when it wished to do so.
Nighttime is approaching, thought Glyceria as she climbed out from under the table. It might be best to leave the clock outside.”
She brought the clock out of the house.
The clock snored and bonked all night. Glyceria was only brave enough to watch it from behind a curtain.
In the morning, she returned the clock to the store.
“This clock is wild. Untamed, even. Do you have any smaller ones? Ones that aren’t dangerous?” she asked.
“Here’s the smallest one I’ve got”, said the shopkeeper. “Except they’re broken - they’re always running late.” He gave Glyceria a polished wooden box. Something was quietly clicking its tongue inside the box.
“Now I got myself a tiny clock. So tiny, and so tame!” Glyceria bragged about her watch to all her friends and all her close ones.
Indeed, the clock was tame. It didn’t make a noise at night, nor did it wake up Glyceria with its snore.
Glyceria sets the clock to sleep every night in her top drawer. It fits perfectly between the marmalade spoon and the river shells. All the things can dream sweet dreams together.
And it’s no surprise that the clock’s delayed - it just isn’t hurrying anywhere today.
And neither is Glyceria.
So useless. Yet so pretty!
Glyceria was very fond of pretty things. She kept many such trinkets in her top drawer already. Each trinket was stored in a tiny bag, box or casket of its own.
Glyceria’s friends and close ones were sure to think of her if they ever lost use for something. Why throw something out when you can give it to Glyceria?. It would make her very happy, they thought, for her to place whatever things she gets into her top drawer. A very organized drawer, in fact. Shards from broken blue Christmas ornaments, for instance, would be kept in a white box with blue candy wrappers glued onto it. Those that are red would be stored in a silvery bag of chips. Peach pits laid together in a cookie box. And buttons hanged together on a single string. And so on.
Every Wednesday, Glyceria marvelled at her drawer collection. Sometimes, even on Tuesdays.
One could have found anything in Glyceria’s drawer. There are bits of velvet cloth, silk laces, plain beads and pearly beads, broken manicure scissors, shards from porcelain cups ornate with flowers and from mirrors, wrappers from dark chocolate, river shells, foreign coins, helicopter seeds from maple trees, three glass caps (from real perfume bottles!), a leather bag zipper, a copper spring, a marmalade spoon, five wallpaper nails with starred heads, dried figs, mica powder, tiger striped watermelon seeds, and the ornament shards, peach pits, and buttons that you’ve seen by now.
Only one thing was missing. A clock.
“Would you be so kind to offer me a clock, please?” Glyceria asked the shopkeeper.
“What a useful thing you’ve come for today!” remarked the impressed shopkeeper. “Here is my best one.”
Glyceria stopped to think. If a clock is as useful as she’s told, then she needs to find a use for it.
But Glyceria didn’t know how to use a clock.
“It’s simple,” explained the shopkeeper. “Get a strong nail, use it to hang the clock up on a wall, and just look at the clock. Sometimes.”
How strangely does the seller promote this clock! thought Glyceria. Say, with my chocolate wrappers, I simply take them out of their little folder and look at them. They serve no other use. They are very flashy, yet charmingly useless.
If all you need to do with a clock is to look at it - sometimes - thought Glyceria, then it is as charming and as useless as she needs. I’ll take them, decided the mouse.
She double checked whether to use a regular nail or a wallpaper nail to hang up her clock on the wall, and briskly ran home, her clock in hand.
By now, the clock was already on the wall. For Glyceria, it made a pretty sight. Its long, ticking tail was so lovely. And the arms were exquisitely shiny.
Suddenly, Glyceria got a call from her neighbor.
“I hear you got yourself a new clock?” asked the neighbor.
“Yeah, the best one they had,” said Glyceria, startled by the question.
“Perhaps that means you’ll finally visit us on time today?”
“Of course!” Glyceria nodded her head as she answered. “I’m already preparing to head out.”
“You can make it in half an hour, right?” inquired the neighbour skeptically.
“Yup, in half an hour!” Glyceria was eager to agree.
“Maybe, it would be better to meet in 15 minutes?”
“In fifteen minutes!” Glyceria didn’t want to argue. She hanged up and continued to adore herself with the clock.
Fiftinminitz. Such a nice sounding word, thought Glyceria. I should have asked my neighbor what it meant.
Suddenly, something wheezed! The clock made a BONK! And another one! Several times!
“Oh, stop it! You’re making me scared!” squealed Glyceria.
The clock didn’t listen to her, of course. It stopped when it wished to do so.
Nighttime is approaching, thought Glyceria as she climbed out from under the table. It might be best to leave the clock outside.”
She brought the clock out of the house.
The clock snored and bonked all night. Glyceria was only brave enough to watch it from behind a curtain.
In the morning, she returned the clock to the store.
“This clock is wild. Untamed, even. Do you have any smaller ones? Ones that aren’t dangerous?” she asked.
“Here’s the smallest one I’ve got”, said the shopkeeper. “Except they’re broken - they’re always running late.” He gave Glyceria a polished wooden box. Something was quietly clicking its tongue inside the box.
“Now I got myself a tiny clock. So tiny, and so tame!” Glyceria bragged about her watch to all her friends and all her close ones.
Indeed, the clock was tame. It didn’t make a noise at night, nor did it wake up Glyceria with its snore.
Glyceria sets the clock to sleep every night in her top drawer. It fits perfectly between the marmalade spoon and the river shells. All the things can dream sweet dreams together.
And it’s no surprise that the clock’s delayed - it just isn’t hurrying anywhere today.
And neither is Glyceria.
