tered the
door, and washed away the baby. It was not a moment too soon. There was
a snapping, grinding sound, and the house fell apart and slid into the
dark waters as if it had been a house of cards. The whole country was
like a sea, and the church bell no longer rang, because the bell-ringer
strove to save himself from being drowned.

The little waif, cast to the mercy of the wind and the flood, did not
sink. God watched over it. The wooden cradle became a tiny boat; the
baby waked up, stretched out his little hands, and cried; then, in the
midst of frightful peril, fell asleep again, rocked by the motion of the
stream.

At length the day broke, a cold gray mist seeming to blot out everything
except the sheet of water, which was of a muddy and yellow color, and
rolled along with giddy swiftness, gathering everything in its course.
In some places the trees had their roots under water, and their
branches, still dry, gave shelter to whole families. These cried out:

"Oh, look at the little baby! Who will save it?"

But the cradle sailed on, while the trees often bent beneath the wave.
The boiling eddies of the current swallowed many objects, and caught the
cradle, and spun it about in circles as if it had been a walnut shell,
until the baby cried with fear; but then a friendly wave was sure to
rescue it, and once more bear it onward.

Ah, at last! The poor baby must be drowned. A great tree had fallen into
the river, with all its tangled roots high in the air, and the stream
snapped off the smaller twigs and branches as it moved along. Every
moment it struck some floating object with its gnarled roots and forest
of branches; occasionally the shock was so great that the trunk rolled
from side to side; but the object always sank, whether broken boat or
dead animal; while the tree floated on. The baby's cradle was alone on
the waste of waters; the tree approached slowly and surely. The cradle
tossed up and down, and then--the forked branches caught and held it
firmly just above the water-line. The tree became a raft.

The young King Alfonso of Spain stood on the shore, near a town,
surrounded by officers in brilliant uniforms. Large boats full of his
guards had ventured out from shore to try to save objects swept down
from the country. They saw a tree with a cradle caught in the branches.
Was the cradle empty? No, a little black head could be distinguished
inside. Bravely the boat approached; the tree swerved about, a