St. Landry democrat., 1881-12-03
THE STORY OF A FLOOD.

NE lUhX OF LUUDs
More than eighty years ago three lit
tie English children were solemnly az
ranging their mystic games for All-hal-
low-eve. They were alone in a tiny
cottage. nearly half mile from any
neighbor, for father and mother had
gone to the town of Ware, taking the
baby with them, and would not be back
before the next night; so Rupert, Mar
gerry and little Nance, left to each 9th
err company, were preparing without
a shadow OF fear to amuse themselves
in their own fashion. Two big Jumps
of lead were ready to be melted, and
then poured into water, there to as
sumo hundreds of quaint little shapes;
the chestnuts, carefully matched and
named, were hopping gayly about on
the fireplace: and half dozen rosy
checked apples tloated tantalizingly in a
tub of water. waiting for a courageous
diver
Its no use, Nance" said her sister;
''you will never get one, il you keep
ON soaking yourself all night. Let US
see now who will be married and who
will die. Rupert, you 60 into the gar
den. and bring me in some earth on a
plate, while [ get the ashes and wa
ter
The boy took dish of yellow stone
ware. and went out to DIG up the mold.
1t was clear night, but blowing hard,
and wild scraps OF cloud came lying
before the face of the moon, while to
his left he saw the white banks of the
river Lea, and could hear the rush OF
the waters as they swept angrlly by.
How high the river looked. thought
Rupert, watching it, trowel in hand.
and how loudly it sounded. He had
never seen or heard it like that before,
and for moment he stood wondering
what had caused this sudden rise.
Then Margery's voice calling for the
earth made him forget all about it, and
in another minute he was back in the
warm, bright kitchen, without a
thought of the foaming torrent outside.
While the children were busilv en-
gagged in this new game little Nance
called out:
"Look! Margery, look! the floor is
all wetr'
With a bound the boy sprang to the
door and opened it. Nothing but water
met his eyes-water as yet but couple
of inches deep, but which was softly,
steadily rising in the moonlight. while
the rush of the river sounded now as if
it were close by his side. In an instant
he realized what had happened. The
Lea, swollen by heavy rains, had over
flowed its banks, and the water was
gaining on them fast. Already it had
entered the room where the frightened
children stood, only half understanding
their great danger.
go no stairs" shouted Rupert to
his sisters; "and if the flood rises that
high, we will climb out on the roof.
Go quick!' ~ a
But Margery stood still, her brown
eyes filing with tears. "Oh, Rupert"
she cried. .'the poor little baby ducks
and chickens! They will all be drowned;
and what ever. will mother say when
she comes back?''
Rupert never heededher. The water
by this time reached to their ankles,
and to close the door was impossible.
Thoroughly alarmed. he drew the little
girls up the ladder-like staircase into
their low attic. 1t would not take long
for the waves to mount that high, and
their only hope of safety lay in climb
ing on to the steep sloping roof. Open
ing the window, he crawled cautiously
out, and then helped Nance and Mar
gerry to follow him. Side by side stood
the three children, and saw the sullen
waters, white and foaming in the moon
light. surge and sway around them.
Where could they look for help? Their
father gone, their neighbors ignorant
that they were alone in the house, and
perhaps in the general terror forgetting
all about them. Abandoned in their
great peril, with only boy of twelve to
aid and save them!
Poor little Nance sobbed and shivered
as she crept closer to her brother side;
Margery, bewildered with fright. stood
as if frozen into stone; but Rupert, with
fast beating heart and a despairing
-sgght in his blue eyes, watched the cruel
waters as they rose, and tried to think
how best to act for his sisters sake and
for his own. He could hear in the dis
lance cries and shouts and could see
bonfires blazing on many roofs-signals
OF the common danger. He knew that
along the outskirts OF town, and through
the scattered parish of Ware. relief
boats were even now rowing from house