"The ducks swam through the drawing-room windows. The weight of the water had forced the windows open; so the ducks swam in. Round the room they sailed quacking their approval; then they sailed out again to explore the wonderful new world that had come in the night. Old Ives stood on the verandah steps beating his red bucket with a stick while he called to them, but today they ignored him and floated away white and shining towards the tennis court. Swans were there, their long necks excavating under the dark, muddy water. All around there was a wheezy creaking noise as the water soaked into unaccustomed places, and in the distance a roar and above it the shouts of men trying to rescue animals from the low-lying fields. A passing pig squealing, its short legs madly beating the water and tearing at its throat, which was red and bleeding, and a large flat-bottomed boat followed with men inside. The boat whirled round and round in the fierce current; but eventually the pig was saved, and squealed even louder. The children, Hattie and Dennis, watched the rescue from a bedroom window, and suddenly the sun came out very bright and strong and everywhere became silver. Old Ives below said, 'It's a bad thing for the sun to shine on a flood, it draws the dampness back to the sky.' The grandmother came and joined him, and they talked together in the verandah. There was a great smell of mud, and it was the first of June.
In the kitchens the maids pinned their skirts up high and splashed about in the water trying to prepare breakfast. Their bare legs became quite red. In the large range a fire burnt brightly, and the flames were reflected in the water, but there was a smell of damp and cellars all around. The girls---they were sisters called Norah and Eunice---laughed as they chased a floating basket filled with eggs. Their laughter changed to screeches when a huge, crying shadow passed the window; but it was only the last of the peacocks flying from a tree to the coalshed roof. The other three peacocks had been drowned in the night, and their bodies were floating sadly around the garden; but no one knew this yet, or what had happened to the hens. As the day went on the hens, locked in their black shed, became depressed and hungry and one by one they fell from their perches and committed suicide in the dank water below, leaving only the cocks alive. The sorrowful sitting hens, all broody, were in another dark, evil-smelling shed and they died too. They sat on their eggs in a black broody dream until they were covered in water. They squarked a little; but that was all. For a few moments just their red combs were visible above the water, and then they disappeared.
Ebin Willoweed rowed his daughters round the submerged garden. He rowed with gentle ineffectual strokes because he was a slothful man, but a strong vein of inquisitiveness kept him from being entirely indolent. He rowed away under a blazing sun; the light was very bright and the water brilliant. Sometimes there would be a bumping and scraping under the boat as it passed over a garden seat or tree trunk or some object only slightly covered by water. Strange objects of pitiful aspect floated past; the bloated body of a drowned sheep, the wool withering about in the water, a white bee-hive with the perplexed bees still around; a new-born pig, all pink and dead; and the mournful bodies of the peacocks. It seemed so stark to see such sorrowful things under the blazing sun and blue sky---a mist of rain would have been more fitting."
In the kitchens the maids pinned their skirts up high and splashed about in the water trying to prepare breakfast. Their bare legs became quite red. In the large range a fire burnt brightly, and the flames were reflected in the water, but there was a smell of damp and cellars all around. The girls---they were sisters called Norah and Eunice---laughed as they chased a floating basket filled with eggs. Their laughter changed to screeches when a huge, crying shadow passed the window; but it was only the last of the peacocks flying from a tree to the coalshed roof. The other three peacocks had been drowned in the night, and their bodies were floating sadly around the garden; but no one knew this yet, or what had happened to the hens. As the day went on the hens, locked in their black shed, became depressed and hungry and one by one they fell from their perches and committed suicide in the dank water below, leaving only the cocks alive. The sorrowful sitting hens, all broody, were in another dark, evil-smelling shed and they died too. They sat on their eggs in a black broody dream until they were covered in water. They squarked a little; but that was all. For a few moments just their red combs were visible above the water, and then they disappeared.
Ebin Willoweed rowed his daughters round the submerged garden. He rowed with gentle ineffectual strokes because he was a slothful man, but a strong vein of inquisitiveness kept him from being entirely indolent. He rowed away under a blazing sun; the light was very bright and the water brilliant. Sometimes there would be a bumping and scraping under the boat as it passed over a garden seat or tree trunk or some object only slightly covered by water. Strange objects of pitiful aspect floated past; the bloated body of a drowned sheep, the wool withering about in the water, a white bee-hive with the perplexed bees still around; a new-born pig, all pink and dead; and the mournful bodies of the peacocks. It seemed so stark to see such sorrowful things under the blazing sun and blue sky---a mist of rain would have been more fitting."