on　the　floor　before　the　fire　and　in　the　chimney　corner　for　her　only
  son；　baptized　under　that　historic　title。　　〃He　was　here　a　minit
  ago；〃　she　said　doubtfully。　　〃I　really　can't　think　where　he's　gone。
  But；〃　assuringly；　〃it　ain't　far。〃
  〃He's　skipped　with　one　o'　those　story…books　he's　borrowed；〃　said
  Phemie。　　〃He's　always　doin'　it。　　Like　as　not　he's　reading　with　a
  candle　in　the　wood…shed。　　We'll　all　be　burnt　up　some　night。〃
  〃But　he's　got　through　his　chores；〃　interposed　Mrs。　Harkutt
  deprecatingly。
  〃Yes；〃　continued　Harkutt；　aggrievedly；　〃but　instead　of　goin'　to
  bed；　or　addin'　up　bills；　or　takin'　count　o'　stock；　or　even　doin'
  sums　or　suthin'　useful；　he's　ruinin'　his　eyes　and　wastin'　his　time
  over　trash。〃　　He　rose　and　walked　slowly　into　the　sitting…room；
  followed　by　his　daughter　and　a　murmur　of　commiseration　from　his
  wife。　　But　Mrs。　Harkutt's　ministration　for　the　present　did　not　pass
  beyond　her　domain；　the　kitchen。
  〃I　reckon　ye　ain't　expectin'　anybody　tonight；　Phemie？〃　said　Mr。
  Harkutt；　sinking　into　a　chair；　and　placing　his　slippered　feet
  against　the　wall。
  〃No；〃　said　Phemie；　〃unless　something　possesses　that　sappy　little
  Parmlee　to　make　one　of　his　visitations。　　John　Milton　says　that　out
  on　the　road　it　blows　so　you　can't　stand　up。　　It's　just　like　that
  idiot　Parmlee　to　be　blown　in　here；　and　not　have　strength　of　mind
  enough　to　get　away　again。〃
  Mr。　Harkutt　smiled。　　It　was　that　arch　yet　approving；　severe　yet
  satisfied　smile　with　which　the　deceived　male　parent　usually
  receives　any　depreciation　of　the　ordinary　young　man　by　his
  daughters。　　Euphemia　was　no　giddy　thing　to　be　carried　away　by　young
  men's　attentions；not　she！　　Sitting　back　comfortably　in　his
  rocking…chair；　he　said；　〃Play　something。〃
  The　young　girl　went　to　the　closet　and　took　from　the　top　shelf　an
  excessively　ornamented　accordion；the　opulent　gift　of　a　reckless
  admirer。　　It　was　so　inordinately　decorated；　so　gorgeous　in　the
  blaze　of　papier　mache；　mother…of…pearl；　and　tortoise…shell　on　keys
  and　keyboard；　and　so　ostentatiously　radiant　in　the　pink　silk　of　its
  bellows　that　it　seemed　to　overawe　the　plainly　furnished　room　with
  its　splendors。　　〃You　ought　to　keep　it　on　the　table　in　a　glass　vase；
  Phemie；〃　said　her　father　admiringly。
  〃And　have　HIM　think　I　worshiped　it！　　Not　me；　indeed！　　He's　conceited
  enough　already；〃　she　returned；　saucily。
  Mr。　Harkutt　again　smiled　his　approbation；　then　deliberately　closed
  his　eyes　and　threw　his　head　back　in　comfortable　anticipation　of　the
  coming　strains。
  It　is　to　be　regretted　that　in　brilliancy；　finish；　and　even
  cheerfulness　of　quality　they　were　not　up　to　the　suggestions　of　the
  keys　and　keyboard。　　The　most　discreet　and　cautious　effort　on　the
  part　of　the　young　performer　seemed　only　to　produce　startlingly
  unexpected；　but　instantly　suppressed　complaints　from　the
  instrument；　accompanied　by　impatient　interjections　of　〃No；　no；〃
  from　the　girl　herself。　　Nevertheless；　with　her　pretty　eyebrows
  knitted　in　some　charming　distress　of　memory；　her　little　mouth　half
  open　between　an　apologetic　smile　and　the　exertion　of　working　the
  bellows；　with　her　white；　rounded　arms　partly　lifted　up　and　waving
  before　her；　she　was　pleasantly　distracting　to　the　eye。　　Gradually；
  as　the　scattered　strains　were　marshaled　into　something　like　an　air；
  she　began　to　sing　also；　glossing　over　the　instrumental　weaknesses；
  filling　in　certain　dropped　notes　and　omissions；　and　otherwise
  assisting　the　ineffectual　accordion　with　a　youthful　but　not
  unmusical　voice。　　The　song　was　a　lugubrious　religious　chant；　under
  its　influence　the　house　seemed　to　sink　into　greater　quiet；
  permitting　in　the　intervals　the　murmur　of　the　swollen　creek　to
  appear　more　distinct；　and　even　the　far　moaning　of　the　wind　on　the
  plain　to　become　faintly　audible。　　At　last；　having　fairly　mastered
  the　instrument；　Phemie　got　into　the　full　swing　of　the　chant。
  Unconstrained　by　any　criticism；　carried　away　by　the　sound　of　her
  own　voice；　and　perhaps　a　youthful　love　for　mere　uproar；　or　possibly
  desirous　to　drown　her　father's　voice；　which　had　unexpectedly　joined
  in　with　a　discomposing　bass；　the　conjoined　utterances　seemed　to
  threaten　the　frail　structure　of　their　dwelling；　even　as　the　gale
  had　distended　the　store　behind　them。　　When　they　ceased　at　last　it
  was　in　an　accession　of　dripping　from　the　apparently　stirred　leaves
  outside。　　And　then　a　voice；　evidently　from　the　moist　depths　of　the
  abyss　below；　called　out；
  〃Hullo；　there！〃
  Phemie　put　down　the　accordion；　said；　〃Who's　that　now？〃　went　to　the
  window；　lazily　leaned　her　elbows　on　the　sill；　and　peered　into　the
  darkness。　　Nothing　was　to　be　seen；　the　open　space　of　dimly　outlined
  landscape　had　that　blank；　uncommunicative　impenetrability　with
  which　Nature　always　confronts　and　surprises　us　at　such　moments。　　It
  seemed　to　Phemie　that　she　was　the　only　human　being　present。　　Yet
  after　the　feeling　had　passed　she　fancied　she　heard　the　wash　of　the
  current　against　some　object　in　the　stream；　half　stationary　and　half
  resisting。
  〃Is　any　one　down　there？　　Is　that　you；　Mr。　Parmlee？〃　she　called。
  There　was　a　pause。　　Some　invisible　auditor　said　to　another；　〃It's　a
  young　lady。〃　　Then　the　first　voice　rose　again　in　a　more　deferential
  tone：　〃Are　we　anywhere　near　Sidon？〃
  〃This　is　Sidon；〃　answered　Harkutt；　who　had　risen；　and　was　now　quite
  obliterating　his　daughter's　outline　at　the　window。
  〃Thank　you；〃　said　the　voice。　　〃Can　we　land　anywhere　here；　on　this
  bank？〃
  〃Run　down；　pop；　they're　strangers；〃　said　the　girl；　with　excited；
  almost　childish　eagerness。
  〃Hold　on；〃　called　out　Harkutt；　〃I'll　be　thar　in　a　moment！〃　　He
  hastily　thrust　his　feet　into　a　pair　of　huge　boots；　clapped　on　an
  oilskin　hat　and　waterproof；　and　disappeared　through　a　door　that　led
  to　a　lower　staircase。　　Phemie；　still　at　the　window；　albeit　with　a
  newly　added　sense　of　self…consciousness；　hung　out　breathlessly。
  Presently　a　beam　of　light　from　the　lower　depths　of　the　house　shot
  out　into　the　darkness。　　It　was　her　father　with　a　bull's…eye
  lantern。　　As　he　held　it　up　and　clambered　cautiously　down　the　bank；
  its　rays　fell　upon　the　turbid　rushing　stream；　and　what　appeared　to
  be　a　rough　raft　of　logs　held　with　difficulty　against　the　bank　by
  two　men　with　long　poles。　　In　its　centre　was　a　roll　of　blankets；　a
  valise　and　saddle…bags；　and　the　shining　brasses　of　some　odd…looking
  instruments。
  As　Mr。　Harkutt；　supporting　himself　by　a　willow　branch　that　overhung
  the　current；　held　up　the　lantern；　the　two　men　rapidly　transferred
  their　freight　from　the　raft　to　the　bank；　and　leaped　ashore。　　The
  action　gave　an　impulse　to　the　raft；　which；　no　longer　held　in
  position　by　the　poles；　swung　broadside　to　the　current　and　was
  instantly　swept　into　the　darkness。
  Not　a　word　had　been　spoken；　but　now　the　voices　of　the　men　rose
  freely　together。　　Phemie　listened　with　intense　expectation。　　The
  explanation　was　simple。　　They　were　surveyors　who　had　been　caught　by
  the　overflow　on　Tasajara　plain；　had　abandoned　their　horses　on　the
  bank　of　Tasajara　Creek；　and　with　a　hastily　constructed　raft　had
  intrusted　themselves　and　their　instruments　to　the　current。　　〃But；〃
  said　Harkutt　quickly；　〃there　is　no　connection　between　Tasajara
  Creek　and　this　stream。〃
  The　two　men　laughed。　　〃There　is　NOW；〃　said　one　of　them。
  〃But　Tasajara　Creek　is　a　part　of　the　bay；〃　said　the　astonished
  Harkutt；　〃and　this　stream　rises　inland　and　only　runs　into　the　bay
  four　miles　lower　down。　　And　I　don't　see　how
  〃You're　almost　twelve　feet　lower　here　than　Tasajara　Creek；〃　said
  the　first　man；　with　a　certain　professional　authority；　〃and　that's
  WHY。　　There's　more　water　than　Tasajara　Creek　can　carry；　and　it's
  seeking　the　bay　this　way。　　Look；〃　he　continued；　taking　the　lantern
  from　Harkutt's　hand　and　casting　its　rays　on　the　stream；　〃that's
  salt　drift　from　the　upper　bay；　and　part　of　Tasajara　Creek's　running
  by　your　house　now！　　Don't　be　alarmed；〃　he　added　reassuringly；
  glancing　at　the　staring　storekeeper。　　〃You're　all　right　here；　this
  is　only　the　overflow　and　will　find　its　level　soon。〃
  But　Mr。　Harkutt　remained　gazing　abstractedly　at　the　smiling
  speaker。　　From　the　window　above　the　impatient　Phemie　was　wondering
  why　he　kept　the　strangers　waiting　in　the　rain　while　he　talked　about
  things　that　were　perfectly　plain。　　It　was　so　like　a　man！
  〃Then　there's　a　waterway　straight　to　Tasajara　Creek？〃　he　said
  slowly。
  〃There　is；　as　long　as　this　flood　lasts；〃　returned　the　first　speaker
  promptly；　〃and　a　cutting　through　the　bank　of　two　or　three　hundred
  yards　would　make　it　permanent。　　Well；　what's　the　matter　with　that？〃
  〃Nothin'；〃　said　Harkutt　hurriedly。　　〃I　am　only　considerin'！　　But
  come　in；　dry　yourselves；　and　take　suthin'。〃
  The　light　over　the　rushing　water　was　withdrawn；　and　the　whole
  prospect　sank　back　into　profound　darkness。　　Mr。　Harkutt　had
  disappeared　with　his　guests。　　Then　there　was　the　familiar　shuffle
  of　his　feet　on　the　staircase；　followed　by　other　more　cautious