the hour of ten
` We mud as well mak ' most o ' life if we 're booked for t ` other shop , though mine 's a warm un i ' this world , as yo ' all know . ' ` It is not of him that willeth nor of him that runneth , but of God that showeth mercy , ' said Amos , in solemn tones . And the whistle sounded for the renewal of work , and the men dispersed . * * * * * The clock in the factory yard pointed to the hour of ten , and four hundred toilers were sweating out their lives in one of Manufacture 's minting-shops of wealth . Overhead the shafting ran in rapid revolutions , communicating its power and speed by lengths of swaying , sagging belts to the machinery that stood so closely packed on the vibrating floors , and between which passed , and behind which stood , the operatives , unconscious of danger , and with scarce a care than how to keep pace with the speed of steam and the flying hours . Every eye was strained , and every nerve as highly strung as the gearing of the revolving wheels , the keen glances of the overlookers seeing to it that none paused until the hour of release . The atmosphere was heavy , the temperature high , and flecks of ` fly ' floated on the stifling air , wafted by the breath born of whirring wheels , and finding rest on the hair of women and the beards of men until the workers looked as though they were whitened by the snows of a premature decay .