seven p.m.
In the existence of all men , who are not born to unmitigated misery , there are times and seasons of peculiar enjoyment . The happiest hour of all the twenty-four to Martin Rattler was the hour of seven in the evening ; for then it was that he found himself seated before the blazing fire in the parlour of the Old Hulk , to which Aunt Dorothy Grumbit had consented to be removed , and in which she was now a fixture . Then it was that old Mr Jollyboy beamed with benevolence , until the old lady sometimes thought the fire was going to melt him ; then it was that the tea-kettle sang on the hob like a canary ; and then it was that Barney bustled about the room preparing the evening meal , and talking all the time with the most perfect freedom to any one who chose to listen to him . Yes , seven p.m. was Martin 's great hour , and Aunt Dorothy 's great hour , and old Mr Jollyboy 's great hour , and Barney 's too ; for each knew that the labours of the day were done , and that the front door was locked for the night , and that a great talk was brewing . They had a tremendous talk every night , sometimes on one subject , sometimes on another ; but the subject of all others that they talked oftenest about was their travels . And many a time and oft , when the winter storms howled round the Old Hulk , Barney was invited to draw in his chair , and Martin and he plunged again vigorously into the great old forests of South America , and spoke so feelingly about them that Aunt Dorothy and Mr Jollyboy almost fancied themselves transported into the midst of tropical scenes , and felt as if they were surrounded by parrots , and monkeys , and jaguars , and alligators , and anacondas , and all the wonderful birds , beasts , reptiles , and fishes , that inhabit the woods and waters of Brazil . THE END .