about nine in the morning
`` Why , Joan , you would not have me dwell here always ? '' She made no answer for a while , and then with a change of tone -- `` Shalt ride wi ' me to Bodmin Fair to-morrow for a treat , an ' see the Great Turk and the Fat ` Ooman and hocus-pocus . So tell me more ` bout Joan the Frenchwoman . '' On the morrow , about nine in the morning , we set off -- Joan on the strawberry , balanced easily on an old sack , which was all her saddle ; and I on Molly , that now was sound again and chafing to be so idle . As we set out , Joan 's father for the first time took some notice of me , standing at the door to see us off and shouting after us to bring home some account of the wrestling . Looking back at a quarter mile 's distance I saw him still fram 'd in the doorway , with the cat perch 'd on his shoulder . Bodmin town is naught but a narrow street , near on a mile long , and widening toward the western end .