the hour of eleven
Preamble -- Somewhat Immoral Notions of a Boarding-House Keeper -- A Balcony Is Heard Closing -- A Cricket Chirps . The clock in the corridor had just struck twelve , in a leisurely , rhythmic , decorous manner . It was the habit of that tall old narrow-cased clock to accelerate or retard , after its own sweet taste and whim , the uniform and monotonous series of hours that encircle our life until it wraps it and leaves it , like an infant in its crib , in the obscure bosom of time . Soon after this friendly indication of the old clock , uttered in a solemn , peaceful voice becoming an aged person , the hour of eleven rang out in a shrill , grotesque fashion , with juvenile impertinence , from a petulant little clock of the vicinity , and a few minutes later , to add to the confusion and the chronometric disorder , the bell of a neighbouring church gave a single long , sonorous stroke that quivered for several seconds in the silent atmosphere . Which of the three clocks was correct ? Which of those three devices for the mensuration of time was the most exact in its indications ? The author can not say , and he regrets it .