One pleasant fellow, with an apparently inexhaustible flask of whiskey in his pocket, and good-humor oozing from every pore of his jolly countenance, passed from car to car, retailing a hundred jokes to every fresh batch of listeners.  But presently the passengers began to tire of his witticisms, and one after another “poohed” and “pshawed” at him as he approached.  Then with infinite good-nature and philosophy he retired to one of the saloons and peacefully fell asleep.

Almost equally amusing was a wizened, bent, and thin old man, draped from head to foot in coarse butternut-colored homespun, and called “Old Woollen” by the funny fellow, who walked from car to car bewailing his hard lot.

“I’ve left the old woman to home,” he whined, “with all the things on her hands, an’ more ‘n fifty of our folks comin’ to eat dinner with us to-day; an’ I’ve got a note of a hundred an’ fifty dollars to pay,—­to-morrow’s the last day of grace,—­an’ I’ve been sixty-five mile to get the money to pay it.  Now look here!” suddenly and sharply to the Funny Man, “what do you think o’ that?”

“Old Woollen,” said the Funny Man, with a tremulous voice and tears in his eyes, “it’s a hard case!”

“So’t is!  That’s a fact!  Call an’ see us, when you come round our way!”

And the old gentleman, greatly mollified by the sympathy of his new friend, moved on to find fresh auditors for his tale of woe.

It came to be nine o’clock on the morning of Thanksgiving-Day, and still the snow fell with unabated violence, and still drifts piled higher and higher about the captive train.  The conductor and one of the firemen had started off on foot at early dawn in search of food for the passengers, and now there arrived, ploughing nearly breast-high through the snow, a convoy from one of the nearest farm-houses carefully guarding a valuable treasure of bread, cheese, bacon, eggs, and pumpkin-pies; but so many were the mouths to fill that it scarcely gave a bite apiece to the men, after the women and children had been cared for.

Then the passengers began to grow clamorous.  Even the Funny Man had his woes, for some rogue entered the saloon where he slept and stole the whiskey-flask from his pocket.  When he awoke and discovered his loss, he remarked that he knew where there was more of the same sort, and turned over to sleep again.  But all were not so philosophical as he.  Some cursed the railroad company, some cursed the fate that had placed them there, some cursed their folly in leaving comfortable quarters in order to fast in the snow on Thanksgiving-Day.

Presently the impatiently-pulled-out watches showed ten o’clock, and still it snowed.  Then a rumor ran through the train that there were a couple of barrels of chickens, ready-dressed for market, in the express-car, and a general rush in that direction followed.  One of the first to hear of it, and one of the first to be on the spot, was Samson Newell.