There was no reply, so he turned his head and eyes this way and that until at length he spied Phoebe on the settle, farther forward. "Am I under the table?" he said. "Where's Cousin Rebecca? Was she pressed out through the wall?" "I'm out here in the kitchen, Copernicus Droop," she cried. "I wish to goodness you'd ben pressed in through the walls of the lock-up 'fore ever ye brought me'n Phoebe into this mess. Ef you're a man or half one, you'll go and stop this pesky old Panchronicle an' give us a chance to move." "How can I go?" he cried, peevishly. "What the lands sakes did you go an' make the machine run away for? Couldn't ye leave the machinery alone?" "I didn't touch your old machine!" cried Rebecca. "Phoebe thought we'd be twisted back of our first birthday ef the thing wasn't stopped, an' she pulled the handle the wrong way, that's all!" Droop rolled his eyes about eagerly for a glimpse of the date indicator. "What's the date, Cousin Phoebe?" he asked. "April 4, 1884--no, April 3d--2d--oh, dear, it's goin' back so fast I can't tell ye the truth about it!" "Early in 1884," Droop repeated, in awe-struck accents. "An' we're a-whirlin' off one day every second--just about one year in six minutes. Great Criminy crickets! When was you born, Cousin Phoebe?" "Second of April, 1874." "Ten years. One year in six minutes--gives ye jest one hour to live. Then you'll go out--bang!--like a candle. I'll go next, and Cousin Rebecca last." "Well!" exclaimed Rebecca, angrily, "ef I can hev the pleasure o' bein' rid o' you, Copernicus Droop, it'll be cheap at the price--but the's no sech luck. Ef you think ye can fool us any more with yer twaddle 'bout cuttin' meridians, ye're mistaken--that's all I can say." Droop was making desperate efforts to climb along the floor and reach the engine-room, but, although by dint of gigantic struggles he managed to make his way a few feet, he was then obliged to pause for breath, whereupon he slid gently and ignominiously back to his nook under the table. Here he found himself in contact with a corked bottle. He looked at it and felt comforted. At least he had access to forgetfulness whenever he pleased to seek it. The two women found it wisest to lie quiet and speak but little. The combined rotary movement and sense of weight were nervously disturbing, and for a long time no one of the three spoke. Only once in the middle of the forenoon did Phoebe address Droop. "Whatever will be the end o' this?" she said. "Why, we'll keep on whirlin' till the power gives out," he replied. "Ye hevn't much time to live now, hev ye?" With a throb of fear felt for the first time, Phoebe looked at the indicator. "It's May, 1874," she said. "Jest a month--thirty seconds," he said, sadly. "Copernicus Droop, do you mean it?" screamed Rebecca from the kitchen. "Unless the power gives out before then," he replied. "I don't suppose ye want to make yer will, do ye?"