nine o'clock
he asked . `` No -- we don ' eat no supper Sunday night , '' said Mrs. Carewe . `` Did n't eat none at all , '' asked Jud -- `` not even a little ? '' `` Well , ` bout nine o'clock I thought I 'd eat a little , to keep me from gittin ' hungry befo ' day , so I et a raw onion , an ' some black walnuts , and dried prunes , an ' -- an ' -- '' `` A few apples we had in the cellar , '' added her mother , `` an ' a huckleberry pie , an ' buttermilk -- '' Jud jumped up -- `` Good Lord , I thought you was a fool when you said you put that stone on her stomach , but now I know you done the right thing -- you might have anchored her by a chain to the bed post , too , in case the rock did n't hold her down . Now look here , '' he went on to Mrs. Carewe , `` I 'll go to the sto ' an ' send you a half pound of salts , a bottle of oil an ' turbb ` ntine . Give her plenty of it an ' have her at the mill by to-morrow , or I 'll cut off all your rations . As it is I do n't see that you need them , anyway , to eat '' -- he sneered -- `` for you ` aint got no appetite at all . ' ''