nine o'clock
Clinch himself had been drinking . He always drank when preparing to cook . He turned and went into the kitchen now , rolling up his shirt sleeves and relighting his clay pipe . By nine o'clock the noisy chicken supper had ended ; the table had been cleared ; Jim Hastings was tuning his fiddle in the big room ; Eve had seated herself before the battered melodeon . `` Ladies and gents , '' said Clinch in his clear , pleasant voice , which carried through the hubbub , `` we 're a-going to have a dance -- thanks and beholden to Jim Hastings and my daughter Eve . Eve , she do n't drink and she do n't dance , so no use askin ' and no hard feelin ' toward nobody . `` So act up pleasant to one and all and have a good time and no rough stuff in no form , shape or manner , but behave like gents all and swell dames , like you was to a swarry on Fifth Avenue .