siding, with awnings attached, had blown across the children's beds, which also had been displaced along with two chiffoniers in which the children's clothing was kept. The whole house was flooded and everybody was wet to the skin. Rugs, bedclothing, furniture and everything else was in wet ruin. But just then a bottle of milk in the refrigerator seemed about the most important thing in the world. At last I surmounted the ruins and retrieved the milk. This stayed the hunger of the little ones for awhile, for all except Millard, who indignantly refused it because it was cold—he is accustomed to taking his warm, but as the electric current was off, and we were dependent on it for cooking, it was impossible to cater to the young gentleman's wishes.
The lull was of brief duration. I had begun to think of trying to get out, when my wife reminded me that this was a hurricane, and so far the wind had been blowing from the northeast only and was due to change shortly. She had hardly spoken before the shift was apparent and the real bombardment began. The battering started about seven o'clock and continued with unbated fury for several hours. It was shortly after eleven, when all of us were huddled together in Catherine's room, having left the living room for fear it would crush in, that I heard a thunderous hammering upon the kitchen door, accompanied by W. E. Sutherland's sonorous voice:
"Hey, there! Can I do anything to help you?"
I opened the door. There stood Sutherland in his bathing suit, water dripping from his grey hair and bronzed face, but his eyes gleaming with courage and kindness. One by one, smothered in bathrobes and other protective coverings, the children were taken to his home, which had escaped with minor damages, and our own water-logged ark was forsaken.
Not only did my good neighbor take in my forlorn brood, but he and his excellent wife provided shelter and culinary accommodations for several other families. They had an oil stove and the lack of electricity was no inconvenience to them in this respect. My children became their especial charge and care. For ten mortal days and nights they humored their whims and not only that, they displayed the greatest diplomacy and tact in their unaccustomed dealings with them. This proves the truth of my assertion at the outset, that disaster and misfortune make the whole world kin!
So there you are! What a difference a hurricane makes. Now I know my neighbors. I know the honest quality of their minds and
