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.

There was one among them, though, who seemed to rise above it all; a
plain-looking woman with an unfashionable bonnet, and a face like a
benediction. She drew a little worn Bible from her satchel, and read
it awhile by the dim light. Ruey wondered if she did not get
something from that book that made her patient when others were
not--that sent her to relieve the tired mother, by