twelve o'clock
The yard was full of life now : Marty was letting the screaming geese through the gate , and wickedly provoking the gander by hissing at him ; the granary-door was groaning on its hinges as Alick shut it , after dealing out the corn ; the horses were being led out to watering , amidst much barking of all the three dogs and many `` whups '' from Tim the ploughman , as if the heavy animals who held down their meek , intelligent heads , and lifted their shaggy feet so deliberately , were likely to rush wildly in every direction but the right . Everybody was come back from the meadow ; and when Hetty and Adam entered the house-place , Mr. Poyser was seated in the three-cornered chair , and the grandfather in the large arm-chair opposite , looking on with pleasant expectation while the supper was being laid on the oak table . Mrs. Poyser had laid the cloth herself -- a cloth made of homespun linen , with a shining checkered pattern on it , and of an agreeable whitey-brown hue , such as all sensible housewives like to see -- none of your bleached `` shop-rag '' that would wear into holes in no time , but good homespun that would last for two generations . The cold veal , the fresh lettuces , and the stuffed chine might well look tempting to hungry men who had dined at half-past twelve o'clock . On the large deal table against the wall there were bright pewter plates and spoons and cans , ready for Alick and his companions ; for the master and servants ate their supper not far off each other ; which was all the pleasanter , because if a remark about to-morrow morning 's work occurred to Mr. Poyser , Alick was at hand to hear it . `` Well , Adam , I 'm glad to see ye , '' said Mr. Poyser . `` What !