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I remember a holiday of mine being completely ruined one late autumn by our paying attention to the weather report of the local newspaper. “Heavy showers, with thunderstorms, may be expected today,” it would say, and so we would give up our picnic, and stop indoors all day, waiting for the rain. And people would pass our house, going off in wagonettes and coaches as jolly and merry as could be, the sun shining out, and not a cloud to be seen.“Ah!” we said, as we stood looking out at them through the window, “won’t they come home soaked!”And we chuckled to think how wet they were going to get. By twelve o’clock, with the sun pouring into the room, the heat became quite oppressive, and we wondered when those heavy showers and occasional thunderstorms were going to begin. At one o’clock the landlady came in to ask if we weren’t going out, as it seemed such a lovely day.“No, no,” we replied, with a knowing chuckle, “not we. We don’t mean to get wet – no, no.” But not a drop ever fell, and it finished a grand day, and a lovely night after it.The next morning we would read that it was going to be a “warm fine to set-fair day, much heat,” and we would dress ourselves in flimsy things, and go out, and half-an-hour after we had started, it would commence to rain hard, and a bitterly cold wind would spring up, and both would keep on steadily for the whole day, and we could come home with cools and rheumatism all over us, and go to bed.
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