170 A TERRIBLE SIGHT. 



me all the way from Portland, all med into a lodge 

 which the varmint had been buildin' ! I wur jest bilin' 

 over, you bet ; an' I wur a-gwine to fetch that skunk 

 out o' his boots, when I heerd a rumpus outside that 

 med me take a squint out o' the door. Jehoshaphat ! 

 that wur a sight met my old peepers then ! Thur wur 

 a tide a-comin' down the bottom, roarin' like all crea- 

 tion, the front wave o' it ten foot high, an' stuck over 

 wi' chips, sticks, bushes, an' logs, as thick as quills in a 

 porkerpine. I hed jest one chance. The shanty wur 

 upon legs ; that is, I hed stuck up four posts to make 

 the four corners, an' hed tree-nailed the planks agin' 

 'em at a height o' five or six feet above the ground. 

 I hed did this jest to hev my old carkidge out o' the 

 damp ; an' also, in case o' floodin', to keep myself an' my 

 possibles dry, as the sile was softish jest about thur. I 

 wur therefore a reg'lar ' Jake in the box,' as my shanty 

 wur planked in all round, top an' bottom. I behoped 

 then that any flood 'ud pass underneath, an' not sweep 

 the hull consarn along wi' it. 



" Wai, I seed at a glimp that I never would hev time 

 to reach the high ground afore the flood 'ud overtake 

 me. I hed only jest time to see what wur a-comin', 

 when the hull thing swep' past, round, over, an' under 

 me ! I reckin I never felt, heerd, saw, or smelt a n'ize 

 like that ! 'Twur like all the fourths of July as ever 

 kem, put in a box an' busted up together. But the 

 shanty stood it all elegant. The fust rush wur the 

 wust, an' arter that the flood settled down a bit, 



