We gladly followed our leader out of the cold, dismal car, and he helped us, one after another, over the narrow passage separating the track from the ditch, until we came to the open space between the train and the baggage-car, which the young men had detached and pushed a few steps back. It was a queer little car--like an enormous goods-box set upon end--and the interior was nearly filled with trunks, barrels and freight of various kinds. But by pushing about and piling up the things room was made for us, and two of the smaller boxes were left near the door to serve as seats, which the two elder women were invited to occupy, while I, as the youngest and smallest of the company, was assisted by the director to climb up into a rocking-chair that stood on the top of a hogshead in the corner, where I had an excellent seat, except that I was obliged to crouch a little in order not to hit my head against the ceiling. Having disposed of us, the three gentlemen set themselves to the work of pushing the car back toward Corning. They could only move it by resting their hands against the sill of the open door and then pressing forward with all their might, their feet being braced against the earth, so that their bodies seemed almost in a horizontal position. After once starting it, they were in hopes to be able to keep it in motion without much difficulty. But the task proved to be a harder one than they had anticipated. The car was strongly built and cumbrous in itself, and the freight it carried was heavy, to say nothing of our additional weight. Then, too, the snow had fallen to the depth of several inches, clogging the wheels and encumbering the footsteps of the men and darkness added to the difficulty.