Driven Back to Eden by Edward Payson Roe — Read

The last night in the city flat was in truth like camping out, the fatigues of the day brought us sound sleep, and we looked and felt like emigrants. But in the morning we rose with the dawn, from our shakedowns on the floor, to begin eagerly and hopefully our final preparations for departure. In response to my letters John Jones had promised to meet us at the Maizeville Landing with his strong covered rockaway, and to have a fire in the old farmhouse. Load after load was despatched to the boat, for I preferred to deal with one trusty truckman. When all had been taken away, we said goodbye to our neighbors and took the horsecar to the boat, making our quiet exit in the least costly way. I knew the boat would be warm and comfortable, and proposed that we should eat our lunch there.

The prospect, however, of seeing the wharves, the boats, and the river destroyed even the children's appetites. We soon reached the crowded dock. The great steamer appeared to be a part of it, lying along its length with several gangways, over which boxes, barrels, and packages were being hustled on board with perpetual din. The younger children were a little awed at first by the noise and apparent confusion. Mousie kept close to my side, and even Bobsey clung to his mother's hand. The extended upper cabin had staterooms opening along its sides, and was as comfortable as a floating parlor with its arm and rocking chairs. Here, not far from the great heater, I established our headquarters. I made the children locate the spot carefully, and said: "From this point we'll make excursions. In the first place, Merton, you come with me and see that all our household effects are together and in good order. You must learn to travel and look after things like a man."