six in the morning
A SILVER rime glistened all down the street . There was a drabble of dead leaves on the sidewalk which was of wood , and on the roadway which was of macadam and stiff mud . The wind blew sharply , for it was a December day and only six in the morning . Nor were the houses high enough to furnish any independent bulwark ; they were low , wooden dwellings , the tallest a bare two stories in height , the majority only one story . But they were in good painting and repair , and most of them had a homely gayety of geraniums or bouvardias in the windows . The house on the corner was the tall house .