Not even heads of growing corn were anywhere more to be seen.

The loss would be severe, and John Duff's heart sank within him.

The sheep which had been in the mown clover-field that sloped to the burn, were now all in the corn-yard, and the water was there with them.

If the rise did not soon cease, every rick would be afloat.

There was little current, however, and not half the danger there would have been had the houses stood a few hundred yards in any direction from where they were.
"Tak yer brakfast, John," said his sister.
"Lat them tak 'at hungers," he answered.
"Tak, or ye'll no hae the wut to save," said Jean.
Thereupon he fell to, and ate, if not with appetite, then with a will that was wondrous.
The flood still grew, and still the rain poured, and Gibbie did not come.