on window panes, repeating--

"Rain, rain, go away,
Come again some other day."

But the rain would not take the hint, and after awhile the sun gave up
his attempts, hid his head, and went away disgusted, to shine somewhere
else.

"It's too bad, it's _too_ bad!" cried Alice Flower, the Mayor's little
daughter, looking as much out of sorts as the weather itself.

"You mustn't say too bad. It is God who makes it rain or shine, and He
is always right," remarked her Aunt.

"Yes--I know," replied Alice in a timid voice. "But, Aunty, I did want
to go to the picnic very much."

"So did I. We are both disappointed," said Aunty, smiling.

"But I'm the _most_ disappointed," persisted Alice, "because you're
grown up, you know, and I haven't any thing pleasant to do. All my
doll's spring clothes are made, and I've read my story-books till I'm
tired of 'em, and I learned my lessons for to-morrow with Miss Boyd
yesterday, because we were going to the picnic. Oh, dear, what a long
morning this has been! It feels like a week."

Just then, Toot! toot! toot! sounded from the street below. Alice
hurried back to the window. She pressed her nose close to the glass, but
at first could see nothing; then, as the sound grew nearer, a man on
horseback rode into view. He was gorgeously dressed in black velveteen,
with orange sleeves and an orange lining to his cloak. He carried a
brass trumpet, which every now and then he lifted to his lips, blowing a
long blast. This was the sound which Alice had heard.

Following the man came a magnificent scarlet chariot, drawn by ten black
horses with scarlet trappings and scarlet feathers in their heads. Each
horse was ridden by a little page in a costume of emerald green. The
chariot was full of musicians in red uniforms. They held umbrellas over
their instruments, and looked sulky because of the rain, which was no
wonder. Still, the effect of the whole was gay and dazzling. Behind the
chariot came a long procession of horses, black, gray, sorrel, chestnut,
or marked in odd patches of brown and white. These horses were ridden by
ladies in wonderful blue and silver and pink and gold habits, and by
knights in armor, all of whom carried umbrellas also. Pages walked
beside the horses, waving banners and shields with "Visit Currie's
World-Renowned Circus" painted on them. A droll little clown, mounted on
an enormous bay horse, made fun of the pages, imitated their gestures,
and ra