eight o'clock
It was queer how Jimsy 's conversation seemed to bristle with verbal shocks . Aunt Judith gasped . Mr. Sawyer fixed a stern eye upon the clock . `` It is eight o'clock , '' he said in what seemed to Jimsy 's puzzled comprehension a midnight tone of voice ; `` you will go to bed . '' Dumfounded , Jimsy followed Aunt Judith up to bed . Here in a great , old-fashioned bedroom he forgot everything in an eager contemplation of a whirling , feathery background to his window . `` Aunt Judith , '' he called excitedly , `` it 's snowin ' .