seeing Euphemia and Pomona safely in the house, I left them to tell
the tale, and ran back to the boat.

The boarder was working like a Trojan. He had already a pile of
our furniture on the beach.

I set about helping him, and for an hour we labored at this hasty
and toilsome moving. It was indeed a toilsome business. The
floors were shelving, the stairs leaned over sideways, ever so far,
and the gang-plank was desperately short and steep.

Still, we saved quite a number of household articles. Some things
we broke and some we forgot, and some things were too big to move
in this way; but we did very well, considering the circumstances.

The wind roared, the tide rose, and the boat groaned and creaked.
We were in the kitchen, trying to take the stove apart (the boarder
was sure we could carry it up, if we could get the pipe out and the
legs and doors off), when we heard a crash. We rushed on deck and
found that the garden had fallen in! Making our way as well as we
could toward the gaping rent in the deck, we saw that the turnip-
bed had gone down bodily into the boarder's room. He did not
hesitate, but scrambled down his narrow stairs. I followed him.
He struck a match that he had in his pocket, and lighted a little
lantern that hung under the stairs. His room was a perfect rubbish
heap. The floor, bed, chairs, pitcher, basin--everything was
covered or filled with garden mold and turnips. Never did I behold
such a scene. He stood in the midst of it, holding his lantern
high above his head. At length he spoke.