"Oho! Our old Organization! What fun it was! But, Daddy, I don't know
of any young crowd following us up."
"No. Our young folks of today think such things too much work;" and,
as that old factory was but a mass of ruins now, and midnight was
approaching, Gadsby's family was soon in that mythical Land of Nod, in
which no horns blow, no sparks fall; only occasionally a soft gurgling
from a crib in Nancy's bungalow.