"Hush, children!" whispered Mrs. March. "You wouldn't like to be laughed at." "Oh, mamma, it's so funny!" said Rob. "We can't help it." Mrs. March did not think it funny at all. She began to be in despair about the night. The very next section to the one with the five children was one of Mr. March's, and luckily those were the next curtains Ben opened. "Here you are! you're all right!" he said, cheerfully. "Here's all your things: I done piled 'em up first-rate for you." Piled up they were indeed. The lunch-basket, the strapped bundle of blankets, the overcoats, the water-proofs, the leather bags, all one above the other on one bed. "Where are we to sleep, mamma?" exclaimed Nelly. "On top," said Rob. "Hurrah! hurrah!" and he was about to jump on the top of the pile. "Be quiet, Rob," said his father: "we must go to bed as quietly as we can, and not wake people up. We ought to have come earlier. Almost everybody is asleep, I think." At this point, rose two great snores, so close that Mrs. March started. "Mercy!" she exclaimed. "How that frightened me!" Snore! snore! snore! The sounds came as regularly as the striking of a clock: they were most uncommonly loud snores. Mr. March looked at his wife and smiled. Mrs. March did not smile in return: she did not like this state of things at all. At last they had sorted out the things they needed, and the rest of the things they pushed under their berths,--all but the big lunch-basket: Mr. March had to carry that out to the end of the car, and set it by the stove. Then Mr. March and Rob climbed into their bed, and shut the curtains; and Mrs. March and Nelly climbed into theirs, and shut their curtains, and began to undress. Presently, Mr. March called across in a whisper:-- "Wife, what shall I do with Rob's clothes?" Mrs. March was at that moment trying to find some place to put Nelly's and hers. "I'm sure I don't know," she replied. "There isn't a sign of a hook here to hang any thing on." "Nor here," replied Mr. March: "I'll leave them all in a pile on the foot of the bed." "That'll do very well for a man's clothes," thought Mrs. March; "but I must hang up our gowns and skirts." At last, she had a bright thought. She stood up on the edge of the bed, and hooked the skirts over the rod the curtains were swung from. It was all she could do to reach it; and, just as she was hooking the last skirt on, the car gave a lurch, and out she fell, out into the aisle, and across it, through the curtains of Mr. March's berth, right on to his bed. "Goodness alive, Sarah! is this you?" he exclaimed, jumping up, frightened. He was just falling asleep. "Well, I believe so," she said: "I'm not sure." "Oh, mamma, did it hurt you?" called Nelly, anxiously. "No, no, dear," replied her mother. "I'm coming right back." But, before she went, she whispered in her husband's ear:--