about ten o'clock
The day was swallowed up by the factory ; the machine sucked out of men 's muscles as much vigor as it needed . The day was blotted out from life , not a trace of it left . Man made another imperceptible step toward his grave ; but he saw close before him the delights of rest , the joys of the odorous tavern , and he was satisfied . On holidays the workers slept until about ten o'clock . Then the staid and married people dressed themselves in their best clothes and , after duly scolding the young folks for their indifference to church , went to hear mass . When they returned from church , they ate pirogs , the Russian national pastry , and again lay down to sleep until the evening . The accumulated exhaustion of years had robbed them of their appetites , and to be able to eat they drank , long and deep , goading on their feeble stomachs with the biting , burning lash of vodka .