a quarter after nine o'clock
And as I drove along carefully my mind began to work out into the byways of the situation . I do n't see how my athletic and executive generation is going to do its appointed work in its day if we are going to go on using the same set of social conventions that tied up our mothers . As we neared the cross-road that turned off to Sam 's brier-patch I began to wonder how long it would take me to rush back into Hayesboro , bundle mother into Redwheels , and get back to the cows . It was just a quarter after nine o'clock , but I knew she would be sleepy and would have to be forced to come with me very gently and slowly . Still , I did n't see how I could go on out into the woods with only Sam and the Butterball which was wheezing out cow conversation to Sam that I was intensely interested in and ought to have been listening to rather than wasting force on foolish proprieties . I was about to turn and take Sam 's advice on the matter when he suddenly laid his fingers on my arm and said : `` Stop a minute , Betty . What 's that roosting on that stone wall ? ''