five o'clock in the afternoon
Jean , dignified , chatelaine , sweet wife and fond mother , was as interested in politics as in anything else that commanded her husband 's attention at any time , and had learned from our conversations all about the Ninth Ward . We were confident one spring , and as Grant left home on the morning of election day he was informed that unless he came as a victor he must not expect admission to the home containing his wife and baby boy . He said he would return in triumph or upon his shield , but he did neither . At five o'clock in the afternoon we knew that we were whipped , whipped beautifully and thoroughly , and all because of that same black demon of a Ninth Ward , and the fact was so apparent that we became suddenly philosophical , and Grant turned to me and said : `` Come to dinner with me , Alf , and let 's go now . What 's the use of staying to the funeral ? We 'll eat a good dinner and smoke , and good digestion will wait on appetite , and we 'll plan and say we 'll do better next time . '' So we left the hurly-burly and took the train , and were at Harlson 's home a little before the dinner hour .