The new wooden floodgate was so swollen with the rain that it was as though riveted into its place, and refused to open. In a few moments my husband had darted down to the barn, and returning with an axe, broke the floodgate in pieces, when the danger was over, and the water rushing away in a great heavy mass found its way into a gully where it could do no mischief. We saw, from the deep cutting made in those few moments by the water when it swept over the dam, what terrible damage might be worked by these rains. But we could hardly believe our eyes or ears however, when we saw in the valley the glistening of the water in the broad river-bed, and heard the roar as though of a cataract. During the first lull that occurred we all hurried down to the valley to examine more closely what was going on. We found such a turbulent, dangerous-looking river tearing down the valley, that we were perfectly fascinated, and would fain have stayed and watched it for hours. The river had already cut a great deep bed for itself out of the wheat-sown meadows of the valley, and every moment a great slice of the bank would give way and silently slide down into the water, which swallowed it up relentlessly as it rushed past. Great trees were lying in the river, in some places all across it, making rough dams where the water fought and leapt even more fiercely; and as we stood there, we were horrified to see one of the dear trees, so highly prized in this bare land, go trembling down into the flood. The sound of their roots straining and cracking as the rushing floods tried to sweep them away from their last bit of anchorage, was most painful; it seemed almost like a human struggle. All the ground was more or less like quicksand, and we had to be careful where we stepped, lest we should be “mired.” As the rain came on again heavily, we were forced to return home, though very unwillingly; it was a scene of such wonderful excitement. We were very anxious, too, about friends whose ranches were some miles further up the valley, and whose land lay mostly rather low down and near the river-bed. We found afterwards that both had suffered considerable loss, besides great anxiety. On one ranch the river had in one night swept away eight acres of beautiful olive-trees that were in full bearing. This was a very cruel blow, over which the whole neighbourhood, I think, mourned, but which the young rancher and his wife bore with the brave cheery spirit which is, I think, a noticeable charm in most Americans. The young wife gallantly carried the heavier share of the blow, by dismissing her servant, and herself doing the housework and cooking. (_To be concluded._) [Illustration] IN THE TWILIGHT SIDE BY SIDE. BY RUTH LAMB. PART XII. THE LITTLE ONES OF THE FAMILY AND THE GLORY OF MOTHERHOOD—CONCLUSION. “Like olive plants round about thy table.”—Psa. cxxviii. 3.