twelve o'clock
`` You have n't been lonely , Dol , I hope , have you ? '' said Cyrus , as a whole flapjack , doubled over and drenched in sirup , disappeared down his capacious throat . `` Not I , '' answered Dol -LRB- Adolphus Farrar , ladies and gentlemen -RRB- , shutting and opening a pair of steel-gray eyes with a sort of quick snap . `` Uncle Eb and I sat by the fire until twelve o'clock . He sang songs , and told tip-top stories about coon hunts . I tell you it was fun ! I 'd rather see a coon hunt than go out at night jacking , especially if I got a ducking instead of a deer , like some bungling fellows I know . ''