he seldom was at the pains to pull it out, as it took time;
but when he had succeeded at last, and looked at it, he started.

"Late, indeed! It is four o'clock, and we were to have been here by
eleven; they have given you up."

The little boys wanted to force in the door; but Hiram said it was no
use,--they wouldn't understand what to do, and he should have to see to
the horses,--and it was too late, and it was likely they had carried off
all the syrup. But he thought a minute, as they all stood in silence and
gloom; and then he guessed they might find some sugar at Deacon Spear's,
close by, on the back road, and that would be better than nothing. Mrs.
Peterkin was pretty cold, and glad not to wait in the darkening wood; so
the eight little boys walked through the wood-path, Hiram leading the
way; and slowly the carry-all followed.

They reached Deacon Spear's at length; but only Mrs. Spear was at home.
She was very deaf, but could explain that the family had taken all their
syrup to the annual festival.

"We might go to the festival," exclaimed the little boys.

"It would be very well," said Mrs. Peterkin, "to eat our fresh syrup
there."

But Mrs. Spear could not tell where the festival was to be, as she had
not heard; perhaps they might know at Squire Ramsay's. Squire Ramsay's
was on their way to Grandfather's, so they stopped there; but they
learned that the "Squire's folks had all gone with their syrup to the
festival," but the man who was chopping wood did not know where the
festival was to be.

"They 'll know at your grandfather's," said Mrs. Peterkin, from the
carry-all.

"Yes, go on to your grandfather's," advised Mr. Peterkin, "for I think
I felt a drop of rain." So they made the best of their way to
Grandfather's.

At the moment they reached the door of the house, a party of young
people whom Elizabeth Eliza knew came by in sleighs. She had met them
all when visiting at her grandfather's.

"Come along with us," they shouted; "we are all going down to the sugar
festival."

"That is what we have come for," said Mr. Peterkin.

"Where is it?" asked Solomon John.

"It is down your way," was the reply.

"It is in your own New Hall," said another. "We have sent down all our
syrup. The Spears and Ramsays and Doolittles have gone on with theirs.
No time to stop; there's good sleighing on the old road."

There was a little consultation with the grandfather. Hiram said that
he could take them back wit