twelve o'clock
Asking the colour of each , and going by some principle of arrangement known only to himself he affixed them , one after the other , as he judged right , shaking and drawing out each to its full length with as much pride as if it had been a tone instead of a ribbon . This done , he resumed his playing , and continued it , notwithstanding the remonstrances of his grandson , until bedtime . That night he slept but little , and as the day went on grew more and more excited . Scarcely had he swallowed his twelve o'clock dinner of sowens and oatcake , when he wanted to go and dress himself for his approaching visit . Malcolm persuaded him however to lie down a while and hear him play , and succeeded , strange as it may seem with such an instrument , in lulling him to sleep . But he had not slept more than five minutes when he sprung from the bed , wide awake , crying -- `` My poy , Malcolm ! my son !