When Tattie woke in the morning, the rain had stopped. The sun shone bright and the water had receded. Her little house stood high in the sun as solid as it could be.
But Tattie’s house did not stand on the hill as Tattie had expected it would. Tattie’s house stood—stuck fast—between the rails of a high curving bridge!
The river surged below, carrying tables and chairs and chicken coops—a wide, fast river running merrily.