ly down, the furious sou'-west gusts had
long ago been beaten into a sullen silence by the descending torrents.
For a moment, and half-awake, an old tropical reminiscence floated
through my sleepy, startled mind: "Can it be an earthquake?" I dreamily
wondered. But, no earthquake of my acquaintance was ever yet so
resounding and noisy, for all its crumbling horror: yet, the house was
certainly shaking. "What is it? What are you doing?" rang in shouts
through the little dwelling, as its dwellers came thronging, one after
another, to our door. Frightened as I was, I can perfectly remember how
indignant I felt, when it became clear to my mind that they all thought
_we_ were making such an uproar. How could we do it, if even we had
wished to get out of our warm beds, and create a disturbance on such a
wild night.

"Good gracious! the house is coming down," I cried, as a fresh shudder
ran through the slight framework of, our little wooden home. "Pray go
out, and see what is the matter." Thus urged, F---- opened a casement on
the sheltered side,--if any side could be said to be sheltered in such
weather,--and cautiously put his head out. I peered over his shoulder,
and never can I forget the ridiculous sight which met our eyes. There,
dripping and forlorn, huddled together under the wide roof of our summer
parlour, as the verandah used to be often called, the whole mob of
horses had gathered themselves. The garden gate chanced to have been
left open, and, evidently under old Jack's' guidance, they had all
walked into the verandah, wandered disconsolately up and down its
boarded floor, and after partaking of a slight refreshment in the shape
of my best creepers, had proceeded to make themselves at home by rubbing
their wet sides against the pillars and the wooden sides of the house
itself.

No wonder the noise had aroused us all. Ironshod hoofs clattering up and
down a boarded verandah is riot a silent performance; and Jack was
so cool and impudent about it, positively refusing to stir from the
sheltered corner by the silver-pheasants' aviary, which he had chosen
for himself. The other horses evidently felt they were intruders, and
were glad enough, on the flapping of a handkerchief, to hurry out of
their impromptu stables, making the best of their way through the narrow
garden gate, and so out upon the bleak hills again. But Jack's conduct
was very trying; he found himself perfectly comfortable, and evidently
intended to r