eight o'clock
Kiss me , Boy . Good-night . '' I was by no means so sure of the good time . In fact , I loitered on my way to the village and it was well past eight o'clock when I paid my fifteen cents admission fee to Elnathan Mullet at the gate of the church grounds and sauntered up the slope toward the lights and gaiety of the strawberry festival . The ladies of the Methodist society , under whose management the affair was given , were fortunate in their choice of an evening . The early risen moon shone from a cloudless sky and there was so little breeze that the Japanese lanterns , hung above the tables , went out only occasionally . The `` beauty and elite of Denboro '' -- see next week 's Cape Cod Item -- were present in force and , mingling with them , or , if not mingling , at least inspecting them with interest , were some of the early arrivals among the cottagers from South Denboro and Bayport .