What a long hour that was! And not even a chance given to Dab to run
down to the landing for a good-by look at the "Jenny" and "The Swallow."

His mother and Ham, and Miranda, and the girls, seemed to be all made up
of "good-by" that morning.

"Mother," said Dab.

"What is it, my dear boy?"

"That's it exactly. If you say 'dear boy' again, Ham Morris'll have to
carry me to the cars. I'm all kind o' wilted now."

Then they all laughed, and before they got through laughing they all
cried except Ham.

He put his hands in his pockets, and drew a long whistle.

The ponies were at the door now. The light wagon was a roomy one; but,
when Dab's trunk had been put in, there was barely room left for the
ladies, and Dab and Ham had to walk to the station.

"I'm kind o' glad of it," said Dab.

It was a short walk, and a silent one; but when they came in sight of
the platform, Dab exclaimed,--

"There they are,--all of them!"

"The whole party?"