"Aw, the nebula be hanged! There's no such thing! I live on high ground; I'm going to keep a sharp outlook, and if the water begins to shut off Manhattan I'll take my family up the Hudson to the Highlands. I guess old Storm King'll keep his head above. That's where I come from—up that way. I used to hear people say when I was a boy that New York was bound to sink some day. I used to laugh at that then, but it looks mighty like it now, don't it?"
"Say," put in another, "what did the fellow mean by saying the ark was full? That's funny, ain't it? Who's he got inside, anyway?"
"Oh, he ain't got nobody," said another.
"Yes, he has. I seen a goodish lot through the portholes. He's got somebody, sure."
"A lot of fools like himself, most likely."
"Well, if he's a fool, and they's fools, what are we, I'd like to know? What did you come here for, hey?"
It was a puzzling question, and brought forth only a sheepish laugh, followed by the remark:
"I guess we fooled ourselves considerable. We got scared too easy."
"Maybe you'll feel scared again when you see the water climbing up the streets in New York. I don't half like this thing. I'm going to follow his advice and light out for higher ground."
Soon conversation of this sort was heard on all sides, and the crowd began to disperse, only those lingering behind who had friends or relatives that had been struck down at the fatal wall. It turned out that not more than one or two had been mortally shocked. The rest were able to limp away, and many had fully recovered within five minutes after suffering the shock. In half an hour not a dozen persons were in sight from the ark.