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Rudder Grange by Frank Richard Stockton
page 23 of 266 (08%)
of loads of arable dirt up our gang-plank and dumped them out on
the deck. When he had covered the garden with a suitable depth of
earth, he smoothed it off and then planted flower-seeds. It was
rather late in the season, but most of them came up. I was pleased
with the garden, but sorry I had not made it myself.

One afternoon I got away from the office considerably earlier than
usual, and I hurried home to enjoy the short period of daylight
that I should have before supper. It had been raining the day
before, and as the bottom of our garden leaked so that earthy water
trickled down at one end of our bed-room, I intended to devote a
short time to stuffing up the cracks in the ceiling or bottom of
the deck--whichever seems the most appropriate.

But when I reached a bend in the river road, whence I always had
the earliest view of my establishment, I did not have that view. I
hurried on. The nearer I approached the place where I lived, the
more horror-stricken I became. There was no mistaking the fact.

The boat was not there!

In an instant the truth flashed upon me.

The water was very high--the rain had swollen the river--my house
had floated away!

It was Wednesday. On Wednesday afternoons our boarder came home
early.

I clapped my hat tightly on my head and ground my teeth.
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