five o'clock in the morning
Our employer called us rogues , and gave us half-rotten tripe to eat for our mid-day meal , instead of meat . It was swelteringly close for us cooped up in that stone underground chamber , under the low , heavy , soot-blackened , cobwebby ceiling . Dreary and sickening was our life between its thick , dirty , mouldy walls . Unrefreshed , and with a feeling of not having had our sleep out , we used to get up at five o'clock in the morning ; and before six , we were already seated , worn out and apathetic , at the table , rolling out the dough which our mates had already prepared while we slept . The whole day , from ten in the early morning until ten at night , some of us sat round that table , working up in our hands the yielding paste , rolling it to and fro so that it should not get stiff ; while the others kneaded the swelling mass of dough . And the whole day the simmering water in the kettle , where the kringels were being cooked , sang low and sadly ; and the baker 's shovel scraped harshly over the oven floor , as he threw the slippery bits of dough out of the kettle on the heated bricks . From morning till evening wood was burning in the oven , and the red glow of the fire gleamed and flickered over the walls of the bake-shop , as if silently mocking us .