ten o’clock in the morning
In spite of the dirt , his face was strikingly handsome , especially when lighted up by a smile , as was often the case , for in spite of the hardships of his lot , and these were neither few nor light , Filippo was naturally merry and light-hearted . He wore a velveteen jacket , and pantaloons which atoned , by their extra length , for the holes resulting from hard usage and antiquity . His shoes , which appeared to be wholly unacquainted with blacking , were , like his pantaloons , two or three sizes too large for him , making it necessary for him to shuffle along ungracefully . It was now ten o'clock in the morning . Two hours had elapsed since Filippo , or Phil , as I shall call him , for the benefit of my readers unfamiliar with Italian names , had left the miserable home in Crosby Street , where he and forty other boys lived in charge of a middle-aged Italian , known as the padrone . Of this person , and the relations between him and the boys , I shall hereafter speak . At present I propose to accompany Phil .