But now she seldom moved from her room, and Taffy seldom saw her except at night, when-- after the old childish custom--he knocked at her door to wish her pleasant dreams and pull up the weights of the tall clock which stood by her bed's head.
One night he asked carelessly, "What do you want with the clock?
Lying here you don't need to know the time; and its ticking must keep you awake." "So it does, child; but bless you, I like it." "Like being kept awake ?" "Dear, yes! I have enough of rest and quiet up here.

You mind the litany I used to say over to you ?--Parson Kempthorne taught it to us girls when I was in service with him; 'twas made up, he said, by another old Devonshire parson, years and years ago--" "'When I lie within my bed Sick in heart and sick in head, And with doubts discomforted, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the house do sigh and weep--'" "That's it.

You wouldn't think how quiet it is up here all day.
But at night, when you're in bed and sleeping, all the house begins to talk; little creakings of furniture, you know, and the wind in the chimney and sometimes the rain in the gutter, running--it's all talk to me.

Mostly it's quite sociable, too; but sometimes, in rainy weather, the tune changes and then it's like some poor soul in bed and sobbing to itself.

That's when the verse comes in:" "'When the house do sigh and weep And the world is drowned in sleep, Yet my eyes the watch do keep, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!'" "And then the clock's ticking is a wonderful comfort.