Seven o'clock
But how cruelly unfair is the fight of to-day , when the weak and helpless child is made the gladiator , and the fight is for bread , and the Beast is of steel and steam , and is soulless and heartless . Steel -- that by which the old gladiator conquered -- that is the heart of the Thing the little one must fight . And the cheers -- the glamour of it is lacking , for the little one can not hear even the sound of its own voice -- in the roar of the thousand-throated Thing which drives the Steel Beast on . Seven o'clock -- eight o'clock -- Shiloh 's head swam -- her shoulders ached , her ears quivered with sensitiveness , and seemed not to catch sounds any more , but sharp and shooting pains . She was dazed already and weak ; but still the Steam Thing cheered its steel legions on . Up and down , up and down she walked , her baby thoughts coming to her as through the roar of a Niagara , through pain and sensitiveness , through aches and a dull , never-ending sameness . Nine o'clock !