Philly, March 5, 1890
The churchyard was quiet, all except for the night watch twirling his keys and whistling. He went around back to where the graves were all laid in rows. It wasn't a very pleasant scene, the lantern shining on the graves, and the watchman gave a shudder. As you can guess, this wasn't his favorite part of the job, and he wanted to leave as quickly as possible. He held up his light just to make certain the yard was empty when the light fell upon a boy. He was small, no more than 8, and he seemed to have fallen asleep while leaning on the grave. The watchman wondered if he was homeless….but no, his clothes weren't dirty enough. He walked over to the boy to wake him, when he stepped on a twig and snapped it. The boy heard the noise and raised his head to find the watchman holding his light up to get a better look at him.
"Hello there, are you lost?" asked the watchman
"No, I just fell asleep" the boy replied standing up and dusting himself off. "Do you know what time it is?" he asked as if he had just noticed the darkness.
The watchman took out his clock. "Well, I would say it is about half past seven." He hesitated, "Isn't it a bit late for you to be out?"
The color drained from the boy's face. Half past seven? He thought. Oh no, father will be waiting…..
"Are you alright?" the watchman asked, thinking that the boy looked awfully pale. But the boy ran past him before he could get an answer. The watchman shrugged it off and went back to his job, checking the graves and mumbling to himself. "Bloody children, treated adults with more respect when I was that age. You ask a question and you get an answer….."