four o'clock
That night he slept like a top , and woke with his knee of almost normal size . He again spent the morning in his chair on the grass patch , scribbling down verses ; but in the afternoon he wandered about with the two little boys Nick and Rick . It was Saturday , so they were early home from school ; quick , shy , dark little rascals of seven and six , soon talkative , for Ashurst had a way with children . By four o'clock they had shown him all their methods of destroying life , except the tickling of trout ; and with breeches tucked up , lay on their stomachs over the trout stream , pretending they had this accomplishment also . They tickled nothing , of course , for their giggling and shouting scared every spotted thing away . Ashurst , on a rock at the edge of the beech clump , watched them , and listened to the cuckoos , till Nick , the elder and less persevering , came up and stood beside him . `` The gipsy bogle zets on that stone , '' he said .