'At half-past five,' he replied.
It was a quarter-past five by an American clock which stood in the centre of the mantelshelf. The clock was a common wooden one, with a glass door in front, on which was engraved a figure of Father Time with a crack down his back. One of his eyes was damaged, and his scythe also was mutilated; taking him altogether, as he was there represented, damaged and with cracks in him, old Father Time seemed by his disconsolate appearance to be of the opinion that it was high time an end was made of him. Without more ado, my mother opened the cupboard, and finding everything there she wanted, laid the table, and prepared the meal. Exactly at half-past five uncle Bryan came in, and we had tea. He did not express the slightest approval of my mother's quickness, nor did she ask for it; and when tea was over, he went into the shop again, and my mother cleared up the things. She asked him about to-morrow's dinner, and took me with her to market with the money he gave her. While we were looking about us we came across the boy who had fetched our trunk in the wheelbarrow. He was standing with others listening to a hymn which was being sung by two men and a woman. One of the men was blind, and he played on a harmonium, while his companions sang. He joined in also, having a powerful voice, and I thought the performance a very fine one.
The boy saw us; approached my mother, and said in a tone of strong approval:
'You're a brick. I say, we sold old Bryan, didn't us?'
My mother could not help smiling, which heightened the favourable opinion he had of her.
'What are you going to do?' he asked.
My mother explained that she was going to market.
'I'll show you the shops,' he said; and his offer was accepted.
He proved useful, and took us to the best and cheapest shops, and gave his candid opinion (generally unfavourable) of the articles my mother purchased. When the marketing was finished, he volunteered to carry the basket, and did not leave us until we were within a yard or two of uncle Bryan's shop. He enlivened the walk with many quaint and original observations, and when he had nothing to say he whistled. He took his departure with good-humoured winks and nods. Upon my mother counting out her purchases to uncle Bryan, and returning him the few coppers that were left, he said,
'We'll settle things on Monday, Emma. You'll have to take the entire charge of the house, and to keep the expenses down, and we'll arrange a certain sum, which must not be exceeded. If anything is saved out of it, you can put it by in this box,' pointing to a stone money-box shaped like an urn, which was on a shelf. You can do anything you like to the place, but don't disturb my flower-pots.'