St. Landry democrat., 1885-12-05
trees alone appeased in sight. and then

reached; in the morning 1t was foot
deep within the inclosure, and was rap
idlv approaching the door yard from
three sides.
Now it reaches the front gate, creeps
through the latticed fence and up the
gravel walk. One by one the flower
beds disappear, swallowed up by the
horrible anaconda that is winding its
folds about the doomed cottage, whose
inmates watch its approach in helpless
agony, knowing that no human power
can prevent the total destruction of all
that years of toll and economya had en-.
abIed them to accumulate.
What is to be doneP
Already q dozen of the neighboFs
have been driven from their houses and
are domiciled in those more remote
from the scene of the overflow. or are
camping out among the hills overlook
ing their desolate homes.
A few more days and the ocean OF
mud and water will enter their own
cottage; where shall they seek for ref
ugeP
There is no one in the cottage now
but John and Martha Parsons and the
crippled boy: the young girl who was
with them for time having returned
to her own home, and Jennie and Lucy
being still in San Francisco.
Evidently the girls could not long re-
main at school now, for their parents
had no longer any means of paying
their expenses. Every dollar of the in
come of the past year had been ex-
pended in paying for work upon the
dam and in the effort to obtain the
injunction, and but fifty dollars re-
manned in bank of that once laid aside
to aid Erastus, now upon his OVID
claim at the Slough.
'The girls must come home,' Mrs
| Parsons had said when word came
that the dam had broken and all was
lost.
eve must send for them, father. II
we are to lose everything we can not
pay their expenses in the city any long
err, and if you will take it to the Office
will write letter at once, telling them
to come by the first boat. -
But her husband pointed to the lake
of mud and water, already six or eight
feet deep, over the road across the
creek bottom.
.'We can't git to the landing" he
said: "a horse would mire in that
stuff fore he got half way to the bridge.
'Then we must go to the landing
above. Can't you get some of the
neighbors to go for your Mr.. Ritchie's
Henry will 60, I think. You know
they are not in as much danger yet as
we are.
II kin git some one to go, 1 s'pect,
Marty" replied her husband; II kin
git some one to 60, reckon, but there
| amt no home fer the girls to come to;
/ er Their won't be by the time they nd
git the letter and git here"
''Oh, John! John! is it possible that
we have lost everything!" sobbed Mrs.
Parsons, dropping into a chair and
burying her face in her apron.
/ John Parsons made no reply, and
after few moments his wife checked
her sobs and raising her head asked:
ssIs there no wayP Can not the dam
be rebuilt and made strong enough and
high enough to stop this awful de-
struction of the homes of honest PEG.
ple?"
II reckon we've did everything that
kin be DONE he returned, except il
is to push for the injunction on the
companies, and that amt any use now
that the damage is done; and as fer the
dam, why the hull gulch is chock-full
O. slickens and stuff, and there AIM Nd
possible chance of dom anything.
| mo, wife, he added in a hopeless
tone of voice, ''there can't nothin' be
done. We're driy out agin by them as
cares nothin' for others, or who think
that nothin' is wrong that the law can't
punish 'em for, and we have got ia
work hard in our old age and may be
die in a poor-house at the end. If il
wasn't for you and Johnny / should
wish were dead already, and don't
see as there is any use in my Twin any
longer anyway, for / can't seem to per
tect them as is dependent on me, though
the Lord knows I've tried to do it. :
Mrs. Parsons arose and came and put
her arms around his neck and laid her
head upon his shoulder.
ssYou have done all you could, John,
and all anybody could have done, y she
said, ''and you must not feel so, dear.
It is better for us thousand times to
lose the place and everything on it than
to lose you" And then, seeing the
tears start in his eyes, she added: Don't
CRY, dear. We have each other yet,
and the children, and will manage
some way. The girls will probably
marry soon, so that they will not sui.
fer greatly by the loss of the ranch, and
we shall then have only ourselves and
Johnny to provide for, and if we live to
be too old to work am sure the chill
dren will be glad to have us with them. "
MAY be, may be, " returned her hus.
band. 81 hope so, for your sake and
Johnny's. but want to die before l be.
come q burden on any one. Ef Lucy
and Erastus, now. had a. married and