The train that carried Ruey thundered on its way, as though it disdained the thought that the snowflakes that filled the air could have aught to do with its progress.  When the first tiny white feather came and softly laid itself down on the iron rails, did it secretly exult that it was one of a myriad that should rear a gigantic barrier before which this puffing fiery monster should stand powerless, and acknowledge the soft bits of down master of the situation?  The storm raged through the day, increasing each hour in strength and fury.  The long train began to plod in a laboured, tired way, after the manner of mortals, stopping often, while snow-ploughs in advance cleared the track.  Darkness came down and still the fearful mass of whiteness piled itself in huge billows about them.  The snow-ploughs were unavailing; as fast as they cleared a space the wind surged down and filled it up in a trice.  The mighty engine struggled in vain to press forward, but only crept at snail’s pace and finally came to a dead halt.  There they were fast shut out from the world.  They could do nothing but wait for morning.  Most of the passengers might not have resigned themselves to sleep so contentedly had they known that they were in the midst of the woods many miles from any town of much size, not near, even, to one of the straggling hamlets that dotted the country.

When the morning dawned they found themselves literally enclosed in snow—­snow above, beneath, to right, to left, behind, before—­a beleaguered host.  Those who understood the situation looked appalled.  The world was well represented there in that restless company that stared from their windows into snow.  How strange that one particular class did not set out on this journey, but each class had its type, as if some one had gone about, and gathering up handfuls of people stowed them on this train.  They were all there, the woman with five children and the one with a lap-dog, and all acted out their individual natures more fully than they might have done under other circumstances; many lost that reticence that is supposed to belong to well-bred people on a journey, and told out their private affairs.  The man of business knit his brows and said that he “must reach C——­ by a certain time or the consequences would be most disastrous.”  The fashionable lady wrapped herself in her furs and bestowed withering looks on the crying baby.  The grumbler grumbled, and was sure somebody was to blame somewhere.  The funny man bubbled and sparkled as usual, and sent rays akin to sunshine over lugubrious faces.  The profane man opened his mouth and out came toads and scorpions, and the tobacco-chewers made dark pools on the floor to vex the souls of cleanly people.  By the close of the day they were a very forlorn, hungry people.