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The Pocket Watch

Anne W. Phillips

     Jake found the old watch in a box he and Grandpa were sorting through. Grandpa was cleaning out the attic-very slowly-and Jake was helping.

     "Ah, that pocket watch," said Grandpa. "My father always said there was something special about it, but I could never get it to work."

     The watch felt smooth and warm in Jake's hand, as though it belonged there.

     "Can I have it? asked Jake. "Maybe I can get it to work."

     "Sure," said Grandpa. He held up a photograph. "This is the farm when I was a kid," Grandpa said. "See that bull out in the field? Meanest animal I ever saw. Why, one time..."

     Jake barely glanced at the photo. Once Grandpa got started taking about the old days, his stories went on and on and on. Jake couldn't hide how bored he felt.

     "Can I go outside now?" he asked.

     Grandpa's face fell, but he said, "Sure, go ahead. Just stay out of trouble."