four o'clock
On Sunday the church bells of Hillsboro rang out across the ripening fields with a grave and holy sound , and again at evening knocked faintly , with quiet sorrow , at doors where children watched for the first star , to make their wishes . Night came , and to the croaking of frogs , the moon rose over Barly Hill . In the early morning the grass , still wet with dew , chilled the bare toes of urchins on their way to school where , until four o'clock , the tranquil voice of Mr. Jeminy disputed with the hum of bees , and the far off clink of the blacksmith 's forge in the village . At four o'clock Mr. Jeminy , with a sigh , gathered his books together . He sighed because he was old , and because the day 's work was done . He arose from his seat , and taking up his stick , passed out between the benches and went slowly down the road .