ten o'clock
But it was chiefly in the woods that the rapture and flavor of the time ran riot in making beauty . There every fir branch swayed under a tuft of white , and the brown refuse of the year was all hidden away . That morning , no one in Tiverton Hollow had gone out of the house , save to shovel paths , and do the necessary chores . The road lay untouched until ten o'clock , when a selectman gave notice that it was an occasion for `` breakin ' out , '' by starting with his team , and gathering oxen by the way until a conquering procession ground through the drifts , the men shoveling at intervals where the snow lay deepest , the oxen walking swayingly , head to the earth , and the faint wreath of their breath ascending and cooling on the air . It was `` high times '' in Tiverton Hollow when a road needed opening ; some idea of the old primitive way of battling with the untouched forces of nature roused the people to an exhilaration dashed by no uncertainty of victory . By afternoon , the excitement had quieted . The men had come in , reddened by cold , and eaten their noon dinner in high spirits , retailing to the less fortunate women-folk the stories swapped on the march .