about 11 o'clock
We could n't afford to keep it . I hope the gods have taken its little soul . At any rate it is sure of salvation hereafter . '' * * * * * Some twenty years ago I took the night train from Pineville to Barbourville , in the Kentucky mountains , reaching the latter place about 11 o'clock of a cold , rainy , dark November night . Only one other passenger alighted . There was an express wagon to take us to the town , a mile or so distant , and the wagon was already heavy with freight packages . The road was through a narrow lane , hub-deep with mud , and what , with stalling and resting , we were more than half an hour getting to the hotel .