The Time Shop Continued…

“Well, young gentleman,” said a kindly floor-walker, pausing in his majestic march up and down the aisle, as the Clock, bidding Bobby to use his time well, made off to the supply shop, “what can we do for you today?”

“Nothing that I know of, thank you, sir,” said Bobby. “I have just come in to look around.”

“Ah!” said the floor-walker with a look of disappointment on his face. ‘‘I’m afraid I shall have to take you to the Waste-Time Bureau, where they will find out what you want without undue loss of precious moments. I should think, however, that a nice-looking boy like you would be able to decide what he
really wanted and go directly to the proper department and get it.”

“Got any bicycles?” asked Bobby, seizing upon the first thing that entered his mind.

“Fine ones-best there are,” smiled the pleasant floor-walker, very much relieved to find that Bobby did not need to be taken to the bureau. “Step this way, please. Mr. Promptness, will you be so good as to show this young gentleman our line of bicycles?”

Then turning to Bobby, he added: “You look like a rather nice young gentleman, my boy. Perhaps never having been here before, you do not know our ways, and have not provided yourself with anything to spend. To encourage business we see that new comers have a chance to avail themselves of the opportunities of the shop, so here are a few time-checks with which you can buy what you want.”

The kindly floor-walker handed Bobby twenty round golden checks, twenty silver checks, and twenty copper ones. Each check was about the size of a five-cent piece, and all were as bright and fresh as if they had just been minted.

“What are these?” asked Bobby, as he jingled the coins in his hand.

“The golden checks, my boy, are days,” said the floor-walker. “The silver ones are hours, and the coppers are minutes. I hope you will use them wisely, and find your visit to our shop so profitable that you will become a regular customer.”

With this and with a pleasant bow the floor-walker moved along to direct a gray-haired old gentleman with a great store of years in his possession to the place where he could make his last payment on a stock of wisdom which he had been buying, and Bobby was left with Mr. Promptness, the salesman, who immediately showed him all the bicycles they had in stock.

“This is a pretty good wheel for a boy of your age,” said Mr. Promptness, pulling out a bright-looking little machine that was so splendidly under control that when he gave it a push it ran smoothly along the top of the mahogany counter, pirouetted a couple of times on its hind wheel, and then gracefully turning rolled back to Mr. Promptness again.

“How much is that?” asked Bobby, without much hope, however, of ever being able to buy it.

“Sixteen hours and forty-five minutes,” said Mr. Promptness, looking at the price tag, and reading off the figures. “It used to be a twenty-five-hour wheel, but we have marked everything down this season. Everybody is so rushed these days that very few people have any spare time to spend, and we want to get rid of our stock.”

“What do you mean by sixteen hours and forty-five minutes?” asked Bobby. “How much is that in dollars?”

Mr. Promptness smiled more broadly than ever at the boy’s question.

“We don’t do business in dollars here, my lad,” said he. “This is a Time Shop, and what you buy you buy with time: days, hours, minutes, and seconds.”

“Got anything that costs as much as a year?” asked Bobby.

“We have things that cost a lifetime, my boy,” said the salesman; “but those things, our rarest and richest treasures; we keep upstairs.”

“I should think that you would rather do business for money,” said Bobby.

“Nay, nay, my son,” said Mr. Promptness. “Time is a far better possession than money, and it often happens that it will buy things that money couldn’t possibly purchase.”

“Then I must be rich,” said Bobby.

The salesman looked at the little fellow gravely.

“Rich?” he said.

“Yes,” said Bobby, delightedly. “I’ve got no end of time. Seems to me sometimes that I’ve got all the time there is.”

“Well,” said Mr. Promptness, “you must remember that its value depends entirely upon how you use it. Time thrown away or wasted is of no value at all.

“Past time or future time are of little value compared to present time, so when you say that you are rich you may be misleading yourself. What do you do with yours?”

“Why—anything I happen to want to do,” said Bobby.

“And where do you get your clothes, your bread and butter, your playthings?” asked the salesman.

“Oh, my father gets all those things for me,” returned Bobby.

“Well, he has to pay for them,” said Mr. Promptness, “and he has to pay for them in time, too, while you use yours for what?”

Bobby hung his head.

“Do you spend it well?” asked the salesman.

“Sometimes,” said Bobby, “and sometimes I just waste it,” he went on.

“You see, Mr. Promptness, I didn’t know there was a Time Shop where you could buy such beautiful things with it, but now that I do know you will find me here oftener spending what I have on things worth having.”

“I hope so,” said Mr. Promptness, patting Bobby affectionately on the shoulder. “How much have you got with you now?”

“Only these,” said Bobby, jingling his time-checks in his pocket. “Of course next week when my Christmas holiday begins I shall have a lot—three whole weeks—that’s twenty-one days, you know.”

“Well, you can only count on what you have in hand, but from the sounds in your pocket I fancy you can have the bicycle if you want it,” said Mr. Promptness.

“At the price I think I can,” said Bobby, “and several other things besides.”

Go to Part 3  here.