three
o'clock
About five o'clock , on circus-afternoon , there would be a general rumbling of buckets and creaking of sweeps , while a chorus rose to heaven , `` My ! I was ` most choked ! '' But our _ fête _ - day dawned bright and speckless . We rose before three o'clock , every man , woman and child of us , to see the procession come into town . It would leave the railway at Sudleigh , and we had a faint hope of its forming in regulation style , and sweeping into Tiverton , a blaze of glittering chariots surmounted by queens of beauty , of lazy beasts of the desert sulking in their cages , and dainty-stepping horses , ridden by bold amazons . For a time , the expectation kept us bright and hopeful , although most of us had only taken a `` cold bite '' before starting ; but as the eastern saffron pencilled one line of light and the bird chorus swelled in piercing glory , we grew cross and all unbefitting the smiling morn . Only Dilly Joyce looked sunshiny as ever , for she had no domestic cares to beckon her ; she and Nance Pete , who was in luck that day , having a full pipe .