three
o'clock
she said to herself . `` I never heerd tell of rheumatis like this , and for certain it aint writers ' cramp , for I never write . Oh , what an awful sort of thing writing is , when a letter once in six months knocks you over in this way . Dear , dear , I 'm a-shaking , but I ` a ' done a nice little bit , and it 's past three o'clock . I 'll go to bed . The doctor spoke a deal about rest ; I did n't mind him much . He was all wrong about the pain , but perhaps he were right about the rest , so I 'll go straight to bed . ''