the great bed, and
this was quickly filled with water.

"It has risen three feet since last evening," said Hester, who had been
standing silent, estimating the distance. There were exclamations of
wonder, surprise, and fear. To many, three feet of a rise in water meant
no more than a Greek syllable. They had not been reared near a river,
and knew nothing of what might be expected in the way of floods.

"Three feet is nothing," said Hester with the air of one who knew all
there was to know of such matters. "Why, a June flood is generally seven
feet at home. We do not think much about it. And September floods--we do
not always have them, but we wouldn't think of calling it a flood
unless the river rose at least five feet. Three feet since yesterday!
That is really nothing at all. I hope it will go five feet higher before
night."

It was all braggadocio on her part; but it had the desired effect. Erma
screamed in terror; Emma's eyes grew big; Mame scolded her soundly for
expressing such a wish. For a while she had a hornet's nest about her
ears.

Early Friday afternoon, a change came. Before, the rain had come down
steady and constant. Now it came in a stream, as though the floors from
a great reservoir had given way and the water had fallen in one great
body.

There was no going out in this. An umbrella was no protection whatever,
for the rain came through as water through a sieve. After dinner, the
girls stood in the windows which overlooked the river and watched the
water as it crept up, so slowly the eye could not recognize its advance.

The trunks of the apple trees were hidden from view. The water was muddy
and foaming. The current had increased until the velocity was ten times
that of normal. There was a sullen roar, and tearing as though the
banks were giving way. Some logs were running, but not many. The breast
of the water was covered with drift. At intervals, large branches of
trees went down. Once a great oak, roots, trunk and all, sailed close to
the apple tree and almost tore it from the earth. A walk, a piece of
fence, a chicken coop, or a dog-kennel went bobbing along their watery
way. Some distance below, yet in sight of the school, was the county
bridge. It had been built in the early history of the country. It was a
big, clumsy-looking affair of wood with a shingled roof and board sides.
Now, entrances were cut off by a wide stream. It stood alone, like an
isolated being; its weather-beaten sides,