ten o'clock
Molly 's tone was not reassuring . `` Go on , '' she added . `` Maybe you 'll like the next verse better , '' faltered Polly . `` The good , kind mothers pack the lunch Of bread and butter , meat and cake , So off they start at ten o'clock , For it is hot when it is late . '' This time , Polly found her friend looking at her , with a scornful curl to her lips . `` I thought you said it was a poem , '' she said , with cutting emphasis ; `` but it sounds just exactly like a bill of fare . '' This was too much for Polly .