seven o'clock in the evening
There was much skirmishing and crowing , but it all ended in a doleful wail , for Tom fell out of bed and bumped his precious head , and refused to be comforted , in any way , shape , or form , until Philip was heard to remark with admiration : `` You stood on your head , Tom , and wath straight up , '' and that was Balm-of-Gilead to the infantile soul of that Young America , for he immediately ceased to weep , and looked content . They all lingered there some time after the children had grown quiet , but finally went down stairs , and left Grandma rocking and watching , till the last little peeper should be closed , for she insisted on staying , as all the little folks were not with her always , and dearly she enjoyed each moment spent with them . Down stairs , the sisters clustered about the fire , with all the old girlish love and glee , and looking at them , in that familiar group , very few changes were noticeable , for time brings few foot-prints if the heart is happy . Bea wore a matronly little cap of bits of lace and blue bows , and held in her arms a gleeful baby , with roguish eyes and sunny little rings of hair , who was named after dear grandma , and who obstinately refused to go `` by-low , '' as any well regulated baby ought to do , by seven o'clock in the evening . Kittie and Kat , on the lounge with clasped arms as of old , looked scarcely a whit changed , though they were both indelibly stamped with the grace and elegance of city ladies , and had fulfilled the promise in girlhood , by becoming truly refined and lovely women . The little stool by the fire was not vacant , for there sat Jean as of old , with the same sweet face and lovely eyes , only now she was taller than mama , and the still childish face wore a perfect happiness , for on the hand that supported her chin , the firelight showed a ring , and in the smiling eyes any one could read the story of it . Olive was there too .