is own
arms, carried her out, and pressing his lips to hers, laid her in
the bosom of her father; then, after taking another kiss of the young
drowned flower, he burst into tears, and fell powerless beside her. The
truth is, the spirit that had kept him firm was now exhausted; both his
legs and arms having become nerveless by the exertion.

"Hitherto her father took no notice of John, for how could he? seeing
that he was entirely wrapped up in his daughter; and the question was,
though rescued from the flood, if life was in her. The sisters were by
this time recovered, and weeping over her, along with the father--and,
indeed, with all present; but the mother could not be made to comprehend
what they were about at all at all. The country people used every means
with which they were intimate to recover Rose; she was brought instantly
to a farmer's house beside the spot, put into a warm bed, covered over
with hot salt, wrapped in half-scorched blankets, and made subject to
every other mode of treatment that could possibly revoke the functions
of life. John had now got a dacent draught of whiskey, which revived
him. He stood over her, when he could be admitted, watching for the
symptomatics of her revival; all, however, was vain. He now determined
to try another course: by-and-by he stooped, put his mouth to her mouth,
and, drawing in his breath, respired with all his force from the bottom
of his very heart into hers; this he did several times rapidly--faith,
a tender and agreeable operation, any how. But mark the consequence:
in less than a minute her white bosom heaved--her breath returned--her
pulse began to play--she opened her eyes, and felt his tears of love
raining warmly on her pale cheek!

"For years before this no two of these opposite factions had spoken, nor
up to this minute had John and they, even upon this occasion, exchanged
a monosyllable. The father now looked at him--the tears stood afresh in
his eyes; he came forward--stretched out his hand--it was received; and
the next moment he fell upon John's neck, and cried like an infant.

"When Rose recovered, she seemed as if striving to recordate what had
happened; and, after two or three minutes, inquired from her sister, in
a weak but sweet voice, 'Who saved me?'

"''Twas John O'Callaghan, Rose darling,' replied the sister, in tears,
'that ventured his own life into the boiling flood, to save yours--and
did save it, jewel!'

"Rose's eye glanced at John--