I. The Fallen Chimney
All day long the rain came pouring down. By night the wind rose with a shriek and a roar, banging unfastened shutters and rattling windows in their casings.
“Oh, dear, what an awful night!” exclaimed Ruth. “How glad I am that Fluffy is safe indoors!” and she stroked the little cat lying on a cushion on the sewing machine.
“And how glad I am that Harry Teelow found that lost puppy to-day,” said Wallace.
“Pretty bad, isn’t it?” Mr. Duwell said, looking up from his paper. “I don’t suppose the bricklayer came to mend the chimney to-day. He couldn’t have worked in such a storm.”
“No, he did not come,” replied Mrs. Duwell with a troubled look. “Do you suppose there is any danger of its tumbling down?”
“Well, I can’t say,” replied Mr. Duwell, shaking his head doubtfully. “I wish I had stopped to see Mr. Bricklayer a week ago when I first discovered how loose the bricks were, instead of waiting until—”
But he did not finish the sentence, for bang! even above the terrific noise of the storm came the sound of falling bricks and broken glass.
The family rushed into the little kitchen, which was built on the end of the house.
What a sight met their eyes!