about
seven o'clock
And the little man told his story with many gestures , describing figures on the air with his bread . `` I was washing my shirt , you see , while the rest of them were making soup . Just try and picture to yourself a miserable hole , a regular trap , all surrounded by dense woods that gave those Prussian pigs a chance to crawl up to us before we ever suspected they were there . So , then , about seven o'clock the shells begin to come tumbling about our ears . _ Nom de Dieu ! _ but it was lively work ! we jumped for our shooting-irons , and up to eleven o'clock it looked as if we were going to polish 'em off in fine style .