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192
The House in Good Taste
·
Elsie De Wolfe
181
The
American
clockmakers
of
the
Eighteenth
Century
made
many
of
those
jolly
little
wall
clocks
called
Wag-on-the-Wall.
These
clocks
may
be
still
picked
up
in
out-of-the-way
towns.
In
construction
they
are
very
much
like
the
old
cuckoo
clock
which
has
come
to
us
from
Switzerland,
and
the
tile
clock
which
comes
from
Holland.
These
clocks
with
long,
exposed
weights
and
pendulum,
have
not
the
dignity
of
the
French
wall
clocks,
which
were
as
complete
in
themselves
as
fine
bas
reliefs,
and
of
even
greater
decorative
importance.
Every
room
in
my
house
has
its
clock,
and
to
me
these
magic
little
instruments
have
an
almost
human
interest.
They
seem
always
friendly
to
me,
whether
they
mark
off
the
hours
that
weigh
so
heavily
and
seem
never-ending,
or
the
happy
hours
that
go
all
too
quickly.
I
love
clocks
so
much
myself
that
it
always
astonishes
me
to
go
into
a
room
where
there
is
none,
or,
if
there
is,
it
is
one
of
those
abortive,
exaggerated,
gilded
clocks
that
are
falsely
labeled
"French"
and
sold
at
a
great
price
in
the
shops.
Somehow,
one
never
expects
a
clock
of
this
kind
to
keep
time--it
is
bought
as
an
ornament
and
if
it
runs
at
all
it
wheezes,
or
gasps,
or
makes
a
dreadful
noise,
and
invariably
stops
at
half-past
three.
I
am
such
a
crank
about
good
clocks
that
I
take
my
own
with
me,
even
on
a
railway
train.
I
think
I
have
the
smallest
clock
in
the
world
which
strikes
the
hours.
There
are
many
tiny
clocks
made
which
strike
if
one
touches
a
spring,
but
my
clock
always
strikes
of
itself.
Cartier,
who
designed
and
made
this
extraordinary
timepiece,
assures
me
that
he
has
never
seen
so
small
a
clock
which
strikes.
It
is
very
pleasant
to
have
this
little
clock
with
its
friendly
chime
with
me
when
I
am
in
some
desolate
hotel
or
some
strange
house.
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