four o'clock
yu ' get back an ' tell that Lanky Jones feller tu come on . Hitch yez own harses behint our cutter an ' take th ' lines . '' He squinted at the sun and pulled out his watch . '' 'T is four o'clock , begob ! Twill turn bitther cowld whin th ' sun goes down . '' The coroner smiled knowingly . `` Talking about ` calks ' ! ''