Zeit's tinker was often referred to as "Doc" since he worked on sick clocks - like the ones that ticked without a tock. Doc might have been a somber fellow with all the discordance and failures of the instruments, but he loved the challenge of solving the problems of otherwise desirable clocks. He especially enjoyed seeing a clock owner's delight when a cherished timepiece was properly reconditioned. People considered him the best tinker around.

When the elected officials of Zeit were preparing for its 500th- year celebration, they called on Doc for a very special task. The old clock that graced the tower above town hall was an attractive gold centerpiece that had, throughout the years, kept perfect time. However, the tinker (from whom the first mechanical clock originated) had planned a more elaborate model before donating the tower's clock. This was a secret that had been long forgotten. When the village was new the original tinker spent years working on a huge clock - meant to be the first of several. The smaller devices were used as working models while the details were carefully planned out. As the wall clocks brought him fame and fortune, the tinker invited artisans and crafts people to work on the large project.

According to a recently discovered journal of the tinker: "After the twelve life-sized dancers were created there was a mechanical failure, and the project was abandoned."

The personal notes explained how the tinker, not wanting to be humiliated by his inability to make the musical clock work, donated the one that was used ever since the early years of the village. The artisans were well paid and asked not to discuss the flawed project. The work, performed behind a panel in the tower, was boarded up and forgotten. The officials of Zeit realized that if Doc was unable to make the clock work, it would bring disappointment to many and possible humiliation to a respected tinker. Thus, the project was discussed in secret.

Finally, six weeks before the village celebration, the comittee officially offered Doc a modest wage to begin repairing the old clock.

The tinker, intrigued by the proposal, went to town hall the next day. With a pack full of tools, he trudged up the narrow, winding stairs within the tall structure. Reaching the tower, the tinker tapped walls until he found a hollow-sounding panel - and by late afternoon, after removing the panel, was looking at twelve delightful, wooden figures. They were dressed in traditional costumes; the girls with skirts and aprons, the boys with fine lederhosen. The characters, standing on a large, round platform, were perfect in every detail.

If not for their glazed, wooden eyes, he would have thought them to be alive. Doc immediately began his work, but after nearly a month of checking over the fine details of the instrument, he was utterly perplexed.

The clock was designed like the classic wall models that he was familiar with, only on a larger scale. He knew that he had done everything he could. But the clock still did not work, and he could not find a problem.

That afternoon, as Doc took a nap, he had a strange dream. He was looking at the elegantly dressed dancers standing very still as they had for hundreds of years. Frustrated, Doc shouted, "Why don't you dance for me?!" One by one the figures turned their heads toward each other and smiled. Then one of the handsome lads turned to the tinker and said in a gravelly voice, 'I will not dance until my cuff link is found." Waking from the strange dream Doc thought about the dancer's words. He climbed up the steps to the clock and went directly over to the figure who spoke in the dream. He found that a cufflink was indeed missing. Looking around the round wooden platform he noticed a small crack between the planks beneath his feet. Using a chisel and hammer, Doc was able to pry up the plank - and solved a 500 year old mystery! The cuff-link, lodged in a large cog, was impeding the rotation of the platform, which was to signal the hourly dance. For the next, two weeks the artisans worked on minor details, oiling the cogs, and repainting the weathered face of the tower.

On the final day before the unveiling, the tinker climbed out upon the outer ledge to remove the nails and planks covering the doors to the musical clock, which was directly below the one being used. Then, at noon, exactly five-hundred years after the original unveiling was to have taken place, over two thousand people gathered to witness the first performance of the dancers. With the hypnotic effect of a dream, the dancers came forth announcing the time with a wonderful swirling motion. The villagers were transfixed as they swayed and sang to the tune of the village song. The smiling, costumed dancers continued to entertain the gleeful crowd with detailed gestures, bows, and swirls. Then, near the end of the performance, the tinker had another strange vision. One of the wooden lads seemed to turn his head towards the proud tinker, and, giving him a mechanical wink, twirled around and disappeared inside the beautiful clock.

THE TINKER