midnight
A stove can no more speak without fire than a man can see without light . Give it fire , and it will sing to you , tell tales to you , offer you in return all the sympathy you ask . `` It is Bavaria ! '' sobbed August ; for it is always a name of dread augury to the Tyroleans , by reason of those bitter struggles and midnight shots and untimely deaths which come from those meetings of jäger and hunter in the Bayerischenwald . But the train stopped ; Munich was reached , and August , hot and cold by turns , and shaking like a little aspen-leaf , felt himself once more carried out on the shoulders of men , rolled along on a truck , and finally set down , where he knew not , only he knew he was thirsty , -- so thirsty ! If only he could have reached his hand out and scooped up a little snow ! He thought he had been moved on this truck many miles , but in truth the stove had been only taken from the railway-station to a shop in the Marienplatz .