four o'clock in the afternoon
`` All right . You hai n't ever rode behind that mare yet , Pert , and I want you should see me let her out once . They say the snow 's all packed down already , and the going is A 1 . '' At four o'clock in the afternoon , with a cold , red winter sunset before them , the Colonel and his wife were driving slowly down Beacon Street in the light , high-seated cutter , where , as he said , they were a pretty tight fit . He was holding the mare in till the time came to speed her , and the mare was springily jolting over the snow , looking intelligently from side to side , and cocking this ear and that , while from her nostrils , her head tossing easily , she blew quick , irregular whiffs of steam . `` Gay , ai n't she ? '' proudly suggested the Colonel .