eight o'clock
All through the night until the bright dawn I `` jodled '' about the streets and repeated -- `` Worked out with talent -- therefore a little masterpiece -- a stroke of genius -- and half-a-sovereign . '' A few weeks later I was out one evening . Once more I had sat out in a churchyard and worked at an article for one of the newspapers . But whilst I was struggling with it eight o'clock struck , and darkness closed in , and time for shutting the gates . I was hungry -- very hungry . The ten shillings had , worse luck , lasted all too short . It was now two , ay , nearly three days since I had eaten anything , and I felt somewhat faint ; holding the pencil even had taxed me a little .