three o'clock in the morning
umph ! umph ! ward number two comes fust , '' and clutching the bundle of papers more tightly , and gathering again the folds of the well-worn gray blanket around him , the old carrier struck out , as briskly as the cold and his stiffened limbs would allow , on his accustomed beat . It was three o'clock in the morning , and for an hour he trudged on and on , past block and square , casting the welcome household visitor , `` The Courier , '' right and left as he went . Suddenly he stopped a moment to listen . `` Dere , it 's four o'clock , '' he said , as old St. Luke 's rang out the hour . `` I 'll soon be through dis ward , an ' in time for the up-town gentry too , as dey takes breakfast late .