eleven o'clock
When he was in the hay-field he also kept as far as possible from Ivory , because there , too , he felt a superiority that made him , for the moment , a trifle discontented . It was no particular pleasure for him to see Ivory plunge his fork deep into the heart of a hay-cock , take a firm grasp of the handle , thrust forward his foot to steady himself , and then raise the great fragrant heap slowly , and swing it up to the waiting haycart amid the applause of the crowd . Rodman would be there , too , helping the man on top of the load and getting nearly buried each time , as the mass descended upon him , but doing his slender best to distribute and tread it down properly , while his young heart glowed with pride at Cousin Ivory 's prowess . Independence Day had passed , with its usual gayeties for the young people , in none of which the Baxter family had joined , and now , at eleven o'clock on this burning July morning , Waitstill was driving the old mare past the Wilson farm on her way to the river field . Her father was working there , together with the two hired men whom he took on for a fortnight during the height of the season . If mowing , raking , pitching , and carting of the precious crop could only have been done at odd times during the year , or at night , he would not have embittered the month of July by paying out money for labor : but Nature was inexorable in the ripening of hay and Old Foxy was obliged to succumb to the inevitable . Waitstill had a basket packed with luncheon for three and a great demijohn of cool ginger tea under the wagon seat .