apparent leader of the expedition. He
was a small, active, spare old fellow, so incrusted with frozen snow,
which hung all over him in tiny white pellets, as to resemble more an
active, but rather diminutive white bear, than anything else known to
Natural History. He scrambled and puffed through the snow till he found
a mounting-place upon an unseen fence, when he arose two or three feet
above the surrounding surface, and spoke,--

"There's five on us, an' two yoke."

A pause.

"Two yoke yender, an' five on us."

"Well! supposing there is?" from the train.

"Five mile to town," continued the White Bear, "an' been sence nine this
mornin' gittin' here. Five times five is twenty-five, but, seein' it's
you, I'll call it twelve 'n' 'arf."

"Call _what_ 'twelve 'n' 'arf,' Sheep-Shanks?" from the train.

"_That_ man don't ride, nohow! I've marked _him_! I don't cal'late to
take no sarse _this_ trip! Take any six or eight for twelve dollars an'
fifty cents right straight to the tahvern! Who bids?"

"I'll give you fifteen dollars, my friend, to take myself, my wife, and
three children to the village."

It was Samson Newell who spoke.

"'M offered fifteen," cried the White Bear, pricking up his ears; "goin'
to the tahvern at fifteen; who says fifteen 'n' arf?"

"I do!" from a pursy passenger with a double chin and a heavy fob-chain.

He glanced round a little savagely, having made his bid, as who should
say, "And I should like to see the man who will raise it!"

"'N' 'arf! 'n' 'arf! 'n' 'arf! 'n' 'arf!" cried the White Bear, growing
much excited,--"an' who says sixteen?"

Samson Newell nodded.

"Sixteen dollars! sixteen! sixteen! We can't tarry, gentlemen!"

The White Bear proved the truth of this latter assertion by suddenly
disappearing beneath the snow. He reappeared in an instant and resumed
his outcry.

"I see the gentleman's sixteen," quoth the man who had called the White
Bear "Sheep-Shanks," "and go fifty cents better!"

"I see _you_," replied the auctioneer, "an' don't take your bid! Who
says sixteen 'n' 'arf?"

"I do!" quoth the Double Chin; and he glowered upon his
fellow-passengers wrathfully.

At this instant appeared Old Woollen on the scene. In one hand he bore
his pocket-book; in the other, a paper covered with calculations. The
latter he studied intently for a moment, then,--

"I'll give you sixteen dollars an' sixty-two 'n' a half cents; an' if
you ever come round our way"--

The jub