the baby.

After the dreadful night, the dawn at last broke forth; rain and storm
subsided; the clouds rolled away and the morning sun streaked the
horizon in flaming red.

From the people gathered about the fire, there arose a dreadful cry of
dismay. By the morning light, they saw that half of their village had
been submerged.

Mr. Swift's house, with many others, had been swept away by the flood.
Many a house stood roofless and in a state of threatened collapse.
People cried for the loss of their homes, but Mrs. Swift cried for the
loss of her babe. "Though everything be gone," said she, "I should care
not, had I but my child." Poor Mr. Swift, too, was more concerned about
his baby than about his other losses, and it was with a great effort
that he controlled his feelings.

The children lamented the loss of their brother as well as that of their
big pet dog, Rover.

Meanwhile, from the neighboring towns, many people had come in boats,
brought the homeless ones provisions and clothing, and offered them
shelter in their own homes. This was a great comfort for the
unfortunates.

Mr. Swift accepted their hospitality for that night. "To-morrow
morning," said he, "I will try to reach my brother's home, where I know
I can be housed with my family until the spring. Then I will rebuild my
home and help my neighbors build theirs. Let us not forget that if we