Away on toward morning, just when the Academy clock was trying to make sound-asleep people hear that it was really four, a tired-out and frosty-looking railway train came smoking and coughing up to the platform at the village railway station.
It did not stop long, but some people got out of one of the sleeping-cars, and some baggage was tumbled out of the baggage-car, and a sleepy man with a lantern said: "Yes, sir. Carriage yer in a minute, sir. All right."
"We don't want any carriage, my man. Take our checks, and have our trunks brought over to Mr. Burnett's before seven o'clock. We'll walk right there now. Come, Sally. Come along, Mid."
"Frank! husband! you'll drop some of those things!"
"No, I won't, Sally."
"Mid, my dear boy, look out for that box; it's only pasteboard."
"I'll be careful, mother. I ain't awake yet. But it takes all three of us to Santa Claus this pile. Hope it isn't far."
The cold, frosty air was fast getting Mid wide awake, and they did look, all three of them, as if they would have done better with a sleigh and a good team of reindeer.
The distance was short, but Aunt Sally talked pretty nearly all the way.
"We must do it, Frank," she said, as they drew near the gate. "I'm sure they've given us up. We can get in. There never was any bolt on the kitchen window, over the pump. Middleton can climb right in, and come and open the side door for us."