!" said Cavendish.

"Get the shears, Dick--I must snip away some of his hair."

All this while the four half-naked youngest Cavendishes, very still
now, stood about the stone hearth in the chill dawn and watched their
mother's surgery with a breathless interest. Only the outcast Henry at
the sweep ever and anon lifted his voice between sobs of mingled rage
and disappointment, and demanded what was doing.

"Think he is going to die, Polly?" whispered Cavendish at length. Their
heads, hers very black and glossy, his very blond, were close together
as they bent above the injured man.

"I never say a body's going to die until he's dead," said Polly. "He's
still breathing, and a Christian has got to do what they can. Don't you
think you ought to tie up?"

"The freshet's leaving us. I'll run until we hit the big water down by
Pleasantville, and then tie up," said Cavendish.

"I reckon we'd better lift him on to one of the beds--get his wet
clothes off and wrap him up warm," said Polly.

"Oh, put him in our bed!" cried all the little Cavendishes.

And Yancy was borne into the smaller of the two shanties, where
presently his bandaged head rested on the long communal pillow. Then his
wet clothes were hung up to dry along with a portion of the family wash
which fluttered on a rope stretched between the two shanties.

The raft had all the appearance of a cabin dooryard. There was, in
addition to the two shelters of bark built over a light framework of
poles, a pen which housed a highly domestic family of pigs, while half a
dozen chickens enjoyed a restricted liberty. With Yancy disposed of,
the regular family life was resumed. It was sun-up now. The little
Cavendishes, reluctant but overpersuaded, had their faces washed
alongside and were dressed by Connie, while Mrs. Cavendish performed
the same offices for the baby. Then there was breakfast, from which
Mr. Cavendish rose yawning to go to bed, where, before dropping off to
sleep, he played with the baby. This left Mrs. Cavendish in full command
of her floating dooryard. She smoked a reflective pipe, watching the
river between puffs, and occasionally lending a hand at the sweeps.
Later the family wash engaged her. It had neither beginning nor end, but
serialized itself from day to day. Connie was already proficient at the
tubs. It was a knack she was in no danger of losing.

Keppel and Henry took turns at the sweeps, while the three smaller
children began to manifest a