"It's an hour yet to train-time," said Ham Morris; "but we might as well get ready. We must be on hand in time."
What a long hour that was! And not even a chance given to Dab to run down to the landing for a good-by look at the "Jenny" and "The Swallow."
His mother and Ham, and Miranda, and the girls, seemed to be all made up of "good-by" that morning.
"Mother," said Dab.
"What is it, my dear boy?"
"That's it exactly. If you say 'dear boy' again, Ham Morris'll have to carry me to the cars. I'm all kind o' wilted now."
Then they all laughed, and before they got through laughing they all cried except Ham.
He put his hands in his pockets, and drew a long whistle.
The ponies were at the door now. The light wagon was a roomy one; but, when Dab's trunk had been put in, there was barely room left for the ladies, and Dab and Ham had to walk to the station.
"I'm kind o' glad of it," said Dab.