eight o'clock
Going to use a shovel ` stead of a spade ; and sand 's easy to dig but awful heavy . Here , get up ; are you going to lie snoring there all day ? '' He leaned over me and poked with the butt of the whip handle at Shock , but that gentleman only kicked and growled , and so he was left in peace . Just before eight o'clock , after a glorious morning ride through a hilly country , we came to a pretty-looking village with the houses covered in with slabs of stone instead of slates or tiles or thatch , and the soft grey , and the yellow and green lichen and moss seemed to make the place quaint and wonderfully attractive to me ; but I was not allowed to sit thinking about the beauty of the place , for Ike began to tell me of the plan of our campaign . `` Yon 's the sand-hill , '' he said , pointing with his whip as he drew up at a little inn . `` We 'll order some braxfass here ; then while they 're briling the bacon we 'll take the cart up to the pit and leave it , and bring the horse back to stop in the stable till we want him again . '' The order was given , and then we had a slow climb up a long hill to where , right at the top , the road had been cut straight through , leaving an embankment , forty or fifty feet high , on each side , while , for generations past , the sand had been dug away till the embankments were some distance back from the road .