ALONG THE HILLSBOROUGH. 99 
legs, and handling and swallowing pretty 
large specimens with surprising dexterity. 
I was greatly pleased with them, as well 
as with their local name, “everybody’s 
chickens.” ; 
Once I feared we had heard the last of 
them. On a day following a sudden fall 
of the mercury, a gale from the north set 
in at noon, with thunder and lightning, 
hail, and torrents of rain. The river was 
quickly lashed into foam, and the gale 
drove the ocean into it through the inlet, 
till the shrubbery of the rails’ island barely 
showed above the breakers. The street was 
deep under water, and fears were enter- 
tained for the new bridge and the road to 
the beach. All night the gale continued, 
and all the next day till late in the after- 
noon ; and when the river should have been 
at low tide, the island was still flooded. 
Gravitation was overmatched for the time 
being. And where were the rails, I asked 
myself. They could swim, no doubt, when 
put to it, but it seemed impossible that 
they could survive so fierce an inundation. 
Well, the wind ceased, the tide went out 
at last; and behold, the rails were in full 
