"I most certainly can," replied Ramshackle, rolling up his left shirt-sleeve to reveal a tiny clock fastened around his wrist. "It's seven minutes past five."

"Oh goodness. I have completely missed my afternoon writing lesson!"

"No you haven't; it's seven minutes past five in the morning."

"In the morning?!"

"That's right. I do all my best miscalculations during the early hours. Maybe it's a breakfast writing lesson that you've missed? I know that most young creatures these days learn how to read from studying the labels on jamjars."

"But what day is it today?" Alice asked.

Captain Ramshackle rolled up his right shirt-sleeve where a second wrist-clock was fastened. "It's a Thursday," he announced.

"A Thursday! It should be a Sunday."

"It should always be a Sunday but, unfortunately, it hardly ever is."

"What month is it?" asked Alice.

Ramshackle rolled up his right trouser leg. Another tiny clock was fastened to his ankle. "It's a bleak twenty-fourth of November in shivery Manchester."

"At least that's right!"

"Of course it's right; this is a right-leg watch, after all!"

"And what year is it, please?" Alice then asked, quite confused.

Ramshackle consulted yet another tiny clock, strapped to his left ankle this time. "It's 1998, of course."

"1998!" cried Alice. "Oh dear, I am ever so very late for my lesson. I set out in 1860, and I still haven't reached the writing table yet. Whatever shall I do?"

"You say that you left Didsbury village in 1860? Why that's… that's… why I don't know how long ago that is. Do you?" Alice tried to work it out, but she couldn't. "No matter," said Captain Ramshackle, "I'll ask the mound how long ago it is." And with that he picked up his pair of tweezers and proceeded to pluck a number of termites from the earth; he rearranged them here and there and then set them on their way back into the mound. "The answer should be arriving in a few minutes," he said. And then he started to consult something lying on his desk beside the computermite mound.