“Oh great,” said Hickory the majestic grandfather Clock, “here they come again.”
The three mice were scampering along the baseboard on the cool, wooden floor. Their toenails made an ever faint ‘click-clack’ noise as they trotted across the floor.
“I just hate it when they climb up my side,” sighed Hickory. “They scratch my lovely finish and their itty-bitty feet tickle. And the worst part is I can’t laugh!”
The three mice rounded the corner and approached the clock with gleaming, coal-black beady eyes.
Hickory said to himself, “If I only knew of a way to keep them off of me, then I surely do it.”
The mice are at Hickory’s base on the floor.
“What will I do?” asked Hickory. “I don’t have any hands, other than those on my face, and my feet only hold me off the floor. There is no way I can keep them off of me!”
The mice started climbing up Hickory.
“Stop it!” screamed Hickory but the mice can’t hear Hickory. All the mice hear is Hickory’s methodical *tick* - *tock*.
“Ohhhhhh! That tickles!!” giggles Hickory. “What can I do to keep them from climbing up me?”
The mice are racing up the side of Hickory. Their little toenails leave teeny-tiny holes in Hickory’s side as they scramble up his side.
“Wait!” exclaims Hickory. “What time is it?”
The mice get closer to Hickory’s top.
“It’s three o’clock!” said Hickory with excitement. “I know what I can do!”
The mice didn’t know what was going to happen next.
“Here I go!” shouted Hickory. “One!” “Two!” “Three!”
The mice flew off the clock and onto the floor.
“Cool!” Hickory whooped. “I struck one, and the rest escaped with minor injuries!”

-Jim Harbour, October 18, 2008