the hour of eight in the evening
It was on the great northern road from York to London , about the beginning of the month of October , and the hour of eight in the evening , that four travellers were , by a violent shower of rain , driven for shelter into a little public-house on the side of the highway , distinguished by a sign which was said to exhibit the figure of a black lion . The kitchen , in which they assembled , was the only room for entertainment in the house , paved with red bricks , remarkably clean , furnished with three or four Windsor chairs , adorned with shining plates of pewter , and copper saucepans , nicely scoured , that even dazzled the eyes of the beholder ; while a cheerful fire of sea-coal blazed in the chimney . It would be hard to find a better beginning for a wholesome novel of English life , than these first two sentences in The Adventures of Sir Launcelot Greaves . They are full of comfort and promise .