Nine o'clock
Now and then , slattern women , in foul clothes and with huge , gelatinous breasts , could be seen rushing the growler , at the `` family entrance '' of some low dive . Even little girls bore tin pails , for the evening 's `` scuttle o ' suds '' to be consumed on roof , or in back yard of stinking tenement , or on some fire-escape . The city , in fine , was relaxing from its toil ; and , as the workers for the most part knew no other way , nor could afford any , they were trying to snatch some brief moment of respite from the Hell of their slavery , by recourse to rough ribaldry and alcohol . Nine o'clock had just struck from the church-spires which mocked the slums with their appeal to an impassive Heaven , when , passing a foul and narrow alley that led down to the Genesee River , Gabriel saw a woman sitting on a doorstep , weeping bitterly . This woman -- hardly more than a girl -- was holding a little bundle in one hand . The other covered her face . Her sobs were audible .