great resemblance to the white steam a slowly moving engine was hissing
forth. They therefore strutted in imitation of the great machine,
emitting large puffs from their little warm mouths, and making the sound
which a groom makes when he plies the curry-comb. The big brother was
assisting in the unloading of a large carriage from an open van in the
rear of the train, and Mrs. Rexford, neat, quick-moving, and excitable,
after watching this operation for a few minutes and issuing several
orders as to how it was to be done, moved off in lively search of the
next train. She ran about, a few steps in each direction, looking at the
various railway lines, and then accosted a tall, thin man who was
standing still, doing nothing.

"Is the train for the Eastern Townships here? We were told it would be
here waiting to receive us at daybreak. Is it here? Is it ready?"

Seeing from the man's face, as she had already seen from the empty
tracks, that no such train was in readiness, she ran at one of the
puffing and strutting children whose muffler was loose, and tied it up
again. Then, struck by another thought, she returned to the impassive
man whom she had before addressed.

"This is really the _actual_ dawn, I suppose?" she asked, with an air of
importance. "I have read that in some countries there is what is called
a 'false dawn' that comes before the real one, you know."

Compelled now to speak, the man, who was a New Englander, took a small
stick from between his teeth and said: "As far as I know, marm, this
morning is genuine."

"Oh really"--with abatement of interest in her tone--"I thought perhaps