twelve o'clock
Governor , do you ever have the blues ? '' The governor , putting his knife across the plate and throwing his spectacles up on his forehead , replied : Almost every nature , however sprightly , sometimes will drop into a minor key , or a subdued mood that in common parlance is recognized as `` the blues . '' There may be no adverse causes at work , but somehow the bells of the soul stop ringing , and you feel like sitting quiet , and you strike off fifty per cent from all your worldly and spiritual prospects . The immediate cause may be a northeast wind , or a balky liver , or an enlarged spleen , or pickled oysters at twelve o'clock the night before . In such depressed state no one can afford to sit for an hour . First of all let him get up and go out of doors . Fresh air , and the faces of cheerful men , and pleasant women , and frolicsome children , will in fifteen minutes kill moping .