six o'clock
`` Wonder if I 'll get that way when I 'm as old as she is ! '' Then the hopelessness of the struggle she was making rose before her . How much longer would this go on ? Up at six o'clock ; a cup of coffee and a piece of bread ; then the monotonous sorting of letters and papers -- the ceaseless answering of stupid questions ; then half an hour for dinner ; then the routine again till train time , and home to the mother and the two chairs by the fire , only to begin the dreary tread-mil ! again the next morning . And with this the daily growing older -- older ; her face thinner and more pinched , the shoulders sharp ; her hair gray , head bent , just as her poor mother 's was , and , with all that , hardly money enough to buy herself a pair of shoes -- never enough to give her dear mother the slightest luxury . Discouraged !