he weather is that phase of Nature in which she appears not the
immutable fate we are so wont to regard her, but on the contrary
something quite human and changeable, not to say womanish,--a creature
of moods, of caprices, of cross purposes; gloomy and downcast to-day,
and all light and joy to-morrow; caressing and tender one moment, and
severe and frigid the next; one day iron, the next day vapor;
inconsistent, inconstant, incalculable; full of genius, full of folly,
full of extremes; to be read and understood, not by rule, but by subtle
signs and indirections,--by a look, a glance, a presence, as we read
and understand a man or a woman. Some days are like a rare poetic mood.
There is a felicity and an exhilaration about them from morning till
night. They are positive and fill one with celestial fire. Other days
are negative and drain one of his electricity.

Sometimes the elements show a marked genius for fair weather, as in the
fall and early winter of 1877, when October, grown only a little stern,
lasted till January. Every shuffle of the cards brought these mild,
brilliant days uppermost. There was not enough frost to stop the plow,
save once perhaps, till the new year set in. Occasionally a fruit-tree
put out a blossom and developed young fruit. The warring of the
elements was chiefly done on the other side of the globe, where it
formed an accompaniment to the human war raging there. In our usually
merciless skies was written only peace and good-will to men, for
months.

What a creature of habit, too, Nature is as she appears in the weather!
If she miscarry once she will twice and thrice, and a dozen times. In a
wet time it rains to-day because it rained yesterday, and will rain
to-morrow because it rained to-day. Are the crops in any part of the
country drowning? They shall continue to drown. Are they burning up?
They shall continue to burn. The elements get in a rut and can't get
out without a shock. I know a farmer who, in a dry time, when the
clouds gather and look threatening, gets out his watering-pot at once,
because, he says, "it won't rain, and 'tis an excellent time to apply
the water." Of course, there comes a time when the farmer is wrong, but
he is right four times out of five.

But I am not going to abuse the weather; rather to praise it, and make
some amends for the many ill-natured things I have said, within hearing
of the clouds, when I have been caught in the rain or been parched and
withered