Five o’clock
-- rap , rap , rap -- what an industrious fellow he must be ! you have heard him at work for half an hour past , and he has been hammering incessantly the whole time . Rap , rap , rap , again -- he 's talking now -- what 's that he said ? Five o'clock ! You make a violent exertion , and start up in bed . The vision is at once dispelled ; the trunk-maker 's shop is your own bedroom , and the other apprentice your shivering servant , who has been vainly endeavouring to wake you for the last quarter of an hour , at the imminent risk of breaking either his own knuckles or the panels of the door . You proceed to dress yourself , with all possible dispatch .