eleven o'clock
`` Yz , yer honer , '' said one man who was standing , shaking himself , with his hands enveloped in the rags of his pockets . He had on no coat , and the keen north wind seemed to be blowing through his bones ; cold , however , as he was , he would do nothing towards warming himself , unless that occasional shake can be considered as a doing of something . `` Yz , yer honer ; we 've begun thin since before daylight this blessed morning . '' It was now eleven o'clock , and a pick-axe had not been put into the ground , nor the work marked . `` Been here before daylight ! '' said Herbert . `` And has there been nobody to set you to work ? ''