traordinarily wet the rivers were in an unusual state of flood, and in crossing the Avon the strength of the current overturned the wagon, Father Salvado saving himself and the child by swimming. On looking back he saw that the oxen were drowning in consequence of their harness being entangled in the branches of a tree; he therefore swam to it, and with much trouble set the poor things at liberty. They forthwith, excusing themselves from continuing the journey, got out of the river on the side that was nearest home, whilst the Father proceeded to Perth on foot, carrying the child on his shoulders through two days' march. Some months afterwards Father Salvado, being again at Perth and sitting in the sacristy preparing for mass, at which he was to officiate, found himself suddenly seized round the neck by his little travelling companion, who, laying her head on his breast, burst into a fit of weeping. As she continued to shed tears for more than five minutes without once raising her head or speaking a word, "I asked her," he says, "with some anxiety, whether she was unhappy with the good sisters, or disliked her new mode of life, and each of my questions being answered with the assurance that she was quite contented, 'Then what are you crying for?' I said; 'is there anything that you wish me to do for you?' 'Nothing else,' she answered, 'but to let me stay with you for a few minutes.' All those," he continues, "who were present at this meeting between myself and the poor little girl were affected to tears by the sight of her affectionate behaviour, and I thought myself well repaid for the two days that I had carried her on my shoulders."
