five o'clock Saturday afternoon
Boys hate to be missionaried , and I 'm sure I do n't blame them . I hope he is happy downstairs in his little prison ! He ought to be , if ignorance is bliss ! '' It was five o'clock Saturday afternoon , and Edgar Noble stood on the Olivers ' steps , Mrs. Oliver waving her hand from an upper window , and Polly standing on the stairs saying good-by . `` Come over to dinner some night , wo n't you , Edgar ? '' she asked carelessly ; `` any night you like , Wednesday , Thursday , Friday . '' `` Wednesday , please , as it comes first ! ''