six in the morning
Intelligence of what could be expected , in the way of a celebration at the blacksmith-shop of Webber , had been more than merely spread ; it had almost been flooded over town . Long before the hour of ten , scheduled by common consent for church to commence , Webber was sweeping sundry parings of horse-hoof and scraps of iron to either side of his hard earth floor , and sprinkling the dust with water that he flirted from his barrel . He likewise wiped off the anvil with his leathern apron , and making a fire in the forge to take off the chill , thrust in a huge hunk of iron to irradiate the heat . Many of the denizens of Borealis came and laid siege to the barber-shop as early as six in the morning . Hardly a man in the place , except Parky , the gambler , had been dressed in extravagance so imposing since the 4th of July as was early apparent in the street . Bright new shirts , red , blue , and even white , came proudly to the front . Trousers were dropped outside of boots , and the boots themselves were polished .