midnight
`` Do n't be late for breakfast , if you can help it , '' he urged , kindly . `` Of course , though , you are up to some new form of insanity , and I shall probably be sent for in the morning , to bail you out of the lock-up . '' Thereupon he turned on his heel , and went down the deserted street , singing sweetly . Sang Mr. Charteris : `` Curly gold locks cover foolish brains , Billing and cooing is all your cheer , Sighing and singing of midnight strains Under bonnybells '' window-panes . Wait till you 've come to forty year ! `` Forty times over let Michaelmas pass , Grizzling hair the brain doth clear ; Then you know a boy is an ass , Then you know the worth of a lass , Once you have come to forty-year . '' _ He Chats Over a Hedge _ Left to myself , I began to retrace my steps .