"That's what they were all saying at the 'sylum this morning," thought Bijah, "and here I am, right where it's coming to."
So he was, and he and Liph and Bush watched them finish setting the supper table, till suddenly Bush gave a great bark and sprang away toward the front door. Grandfather Vrooman had hardly been gone from the house an hour, but here he was, back again.
"WHAT A RACKET THEY MADE AT THE GATE."
Jingle, jingle, jingle. How the sleigh-bells did dance as that great load of young folk came down the road, and what a racket they made at the gate, and how Bush, and Liph, and grandmother, and the rest did help them!
"He's caught 'em all," said Bijah; "but they ain't scared a bit."
No one would have thought so if they had seen Mrs. Prue Hopkins and her husband and her six children follow Grandfather Vrooman into the house.
They were hardly there, and some of them had their things on yet, when there came another great jingle, and ever so much talking and laughter down the other road.
"He's caught some more. Some are little and some are big. I wonder who'll get the baby?"
Bush was making himself hoarse, and had to be spoken to by Mr. Hardy, while Mrs. Simpson tried to unmix her children from the Hopkinses long enough to be sure none of them had dropped out of the sleigh on the road.