twelve o'clock
`` She was neither to bind nor to stay . An ' the tongue of her . Callin ' us a lock a ' papishes an ' fenians ! Sure , she was sittin ' on Father Ryan 's dour-step till past twelve o'clock wavin ' an or ` nge scarf , an ' singin ' ` Clitter Clatter , Holy Watter . ' '' `` Dear help us , '' said Lull . '' ` Deed , I 'm sayin ' it , '' said Teressa . `` An when his riverence come out to her it was nothin ' but a hape of abuse , an ' to hell wid the Pope , that she give him . ''