five o'clock
`` I have come to say good-bye to you , Maudie 's godmother , '' it said . `` Nobody loves me , and I am always naughty , so I 'd better go away . '' And as Magdalen started up to catch the bird , or Hoodie , whichever it was -- in her dream it seemed both -- she awoke . It was bright daylight already , though only five o'clock . Outside in the garden the sun was shining beautifully , the air , as Magdalen opened her window , felt deliciously fresh and sweet , everything had the peaceful untroubled look of very early morning -- of a very early spring morning especially -- when the birds and the flowers and the sunshine and the breezes have had it all to themselves , as it were , undisturbed by the troubles and difficulties and disagreements that busy day is sure to bring with it , as long as there are men and women , and boys and girls , in this puzzling world of ours . Though , after all , it is better to be a child than a bird or a flower -- whatever mistakes we may make , whatever wrong we may do , all , alas , adding to the great mass of mistakes and wrong -- whatever sorrows we may have to bear , it is something to feel in us the power of bearing them , the power of _ trying _ to put right even what we may have helped to put wrong -- best of all the power of loving each other , and of helping each other in a way that the happy , innocent birds and flowers know nothing about . Is it not better to be _ ourselves _ , after all ?