ten o'clock
`` Then , sir , come tell us of the battle , and what brought you hither so fast that the mud is still upon your boots ? '' Now , telling the account of the battle to two charming young ladies , whose bright eyes and eager faces told of the interest they took in my narrative , was a far different thing from telling the same tale before the powerful Council of Safety , and I am free to confess that I enjoyed the last far more than the first . Their exclamations and excited questions spurred me on , and I drew the picture of the battle with a stronger hand and painted myself a hero , which I am afraid I was far from being . But Mistress Betsy suddenly sat up straight , exclaiming : `` Bless me , Polly , Mr. Frisby has not had his breakfast , and here it is near ten o'clock '' -- an outrageous late hour in those days . At this both Mistress Polly and Mistress Betsy sprang to their feet , and I was duly conducted to the dining-room , where a delightful breakfast awaited me , which I endeavoured to eat amid their sallies and their questioning . We were having a very gay time of it , when there came a heavy step through the hall into the room , and a cheery voice asked : `` How is the soldier to-day ? In good hands , I see . ''