eight o'clock
Boys who did n't happen to have pistols or cannon generally burnt their powder in this fashion . For an account of what followed I am indebted to hearsay , for I was insensible when the people picked me up and carried me home on a shutter borrowed from the proprietor of Pettingil 's saloon . I was supposed to be killed , but happily -LRB- happily for me at least -RRB- I was merely stunned . I lay in a semi-unconscious state until eight o'clock that night , when I attempted to speak . Miss Abigail , who watched by the bedside , put her ear down to my lips and was saluted with these remarkable words : `` Strawberry and verneller mixed ! '' `` Mercy on us ! What is the boy saying ? ''