a quarter past eleven
By eleven o'clock everything was ready but the weather , and then , as if it suddenly dawned on the elements that this was hardly a square deal on Pioneers ' Picnic day , the clouds parted right over John Watson 's house , and a patch of blue sky , ever widening , smiled down encouragingly . Sorrow was changed to joy . Bugsey dried his eyes when he saw the sun shining on the Brandon Hills . A little breeze frolicked over the trees and flung down the raindrops in glittering showers , and at exactly a quarter past eleven the Watson family , seated on three seats in the high-boxed waggon , drove gaily out of the yard . `` Sure , we enjoy it all the better for getting the scare , '' said Mary the philosopher . The Perkinses , in their two-seated buggy , were just ahead on the road . Even Martha , encouraged by Pearl , was coming to the picnic .