morning, about nine o'clock
Let us go back to a certain fine morning in the September of the year 1857 , when Mr. Hopper had arrived , all unnoticed , at the age of two and thirty . Industry had told . He was now the manager 's assistant ; and , be it said in passing , knew more about the stock than Mr. Hood himself . On this particular morning , about nine o'clock , he was stacking bolts of woollen goods near that delectable counter where the Colonel was wont to regale his principal customers , when a vision appeared in the door . Visions were rare at Carvel & Company 's . This one was followed by an old negress with leathery wrinkles , whose smile was joy incarnate . They entered the store , paused at the entrance to the Colonel 's private office , and surveyed it with dismay .