t snow all day,
had been breaking roads with the help of the farmers where they could,
had had to give up more than half of the outlying farms, sending such
messages as they might, that the outlying farmers might bring down
to-morrow's milk to such stations as they could arrange, and, at last,
by good luck, had both met at the depot in the hollow, where each had
gone to learn at what hour the milk-train might be expected in the
morning. Little reason was there, indeed, to expect it at all. Nothing
had passed the station-master since the morning express, called
lightning by satire, had slowly pushed up with three or four engines
five hours behind its time, and just now had come down a messenger from
them that he should telegraph to Boston that they were all blocked up at
Tyler's Summit,--the snow drifting beneath their wheels faster than they
could clear it. Above, the station-master said, nothing whatever had yet
passed Winchendon. Five engines had gone out from Fitchburg eastward,
but in the whole day they had not come as far as Leominster. It was very
clear that no milk-train nor any other train would be on time the next
morning.

Such was, in brief, John's report to Huldah, when they had got to that
state of things in which a man can make a report; that is, after they
had rubbed dry the horses, had locked up the barn, after the men had
rubbed themselves dry, and had put on dry clothing, and after each of
them, sitting on the fire side of the table, had drunk his first cup of
tea, and eaten his first square cubit of dipped-toast. After the
dipped-toast, they were going to begin on Huldah's fried potatoes and
sausages.

Huldah heard their stories with all their infinite little details; knew
every corner and turn by which they had husbanded strength and life; was
grateful to the Corbetts and Varnums and Prescotts and the rest, who,
with their oxen and their red right hands, had given such loyal help for
the common good; and she heaved a deep sigh when the story ended with
the verdict of the failure of the whole,--"No trains on time to-morrow."

"Bad for the Boston babies," said Reuben bluntly, giving words to what
the others were feeling. "Poor little things!" said Huldah, "Alice has
been so pretty all day." And she gulped down just one more sigh,
disgusted with herself, as she remembered that "if" of the
afternoon,--"if John had only gone into partnership with Joe Winter."

IV.

HOW THEY BROKE THE BLOCKADE.