until it caught in the bridge, which would also have gone had not the
embankment above given way.

The lower part of the meadow was also under water. It had been plowed,
and therefore would wash readily. Would any soil be left? A few
moments of calm reflection, however, removed my fears. The treacherous
brook had not beguiled me during the summer into inadequate provision
for this unprecedented outbreak. I saw that my deep, wide cut had kept
the flood wholly from the upper part of the meadow, which contained a
very valuable bed of high-priced strawberry plants, and that the
slowly moving tide which covered the lower part was little more than
backwater and overflow. The wide ditches were carrying off swiftly and
harmlessly the great volume that, had not such channels been provided,
would have made my rich alluvial meadow little else than a stony,
gravelly waste. And the embankment had given way at a point too low
down to permit much damage.

The two swales in the front and rear of the house appeared like mill-
ponds. In the former instance, the water had backed up from the
mountain stream into which my drain emptied, and, therefore, it could
not pass off; and in the latter instance I could scarcely expect my
little underground channel to dispose at once of the torrents that for
forty hours had poured from the skies. I must give it at least a night
in which to catch up. And a busy night it put in, for by morning it
had conveyed to depths unknown the wide, discolored pond, that
otherwise would have smothered the plants it covered. As soon, also,
as the mountain stream fell below the mouth of the lower drain, it
emptied at once the water resting on the lower swale. Throughout the
day came successive tales of havoc and disaster, of dams scooped out,
bridges swept away, roads washed into stony gulches, and fields and