four o'clock
`` Boys all seem to think that victuals grow ready cooked in the house somewheres , and that the more they can eat the better it ought to suit us . Here 's Tom , a pretty good sort of boy generally , but he will come into the pantry , after he has been racing about out-of-doors , and commit ravages that it will take me hours of hot , hateful work to repair . Oh , he is a perfect pantry scourge , a doughnut-and-cooky terror ! Why , I have had what I knew must be half a big panful of doughnuts , or cookies , enough for supper and breakfast , certainly ; and then about three or four o'clock of a hot August afternoon , I would hear Tom 's boots clumpering in the pantry , and by the time I would get there , he would be just sneaking out , grinning like a Chessy-cat , with his old mouth full and his pockets bulging out . I will look in my pan and there will not be enough left to put on a plate once ! Then I know I have got to build a fire , get on my old floury apron and go at it again , when I 've just got cool and comfortable , after my day 's work ! `` When he does that , I sometimes think I do n't know whether I love him well enough to cook for him , or not .