the
road, and was secretly voted a greater donkey than ever.

Fortunately for the rest, who might otherwise have been sunstruck, a
friendly cloud bank, which had been for some time gathering in the east,
now began to cover the sky completely; and Dr. Mumbudget, speaking for
the second time, just said, "Rain coming; better hurry on," and then
relapsed into silence.

"Rain! no such thing!" cried Dr. Van Noostile. "When it is about to
rain, you will observe _that the swallows fly low!_ and as I don't see a
sign of a swallow, you may depend that----" His speech was interrupted
by a thunderclap, and then down poured the flood! in one of those
sudden, heavy showers that so often take place in summer, wetting the
whole party to the skin in less than two minutes. It was of no use to
run, and as they plodded along in the wet, our philosophers looked at
Dr. Van Noostile with faces in which anger and dismay were equally
mingled.

"Is this your knowledge of weather?" exclaimed Dr. Skihi, in a pet.

"Science teaches us that even a child of nature should go in when it
rains!" snapped Dr. Sheepshanks.

"And though water is undoubtedly necessary for internal refreshment;
external application, in the form of a hard shower, is only suitable to
plants!" snarled Dr. Smelfungus.

In short, they all set upon the luckless weather prophet, except Dr.
Mumbudget, who, when they had all scolded themselves out of breath,
quietly pointed out a farm house they were now approaching, and led the
way thither himself.

There was no need for words. Gladly did the wretched philosophers hasten
to its shelter, and avail themselves of the bright kitchen fire to dry
their flowered dressing gowns, and wet stockings and shoes. While they
were drying, and steaming like the safety valve of a high-pressure
steamboat, the good woman of the house, not without some doubts of their
sanity, set about preparing a savory meal. In a short time this was
ready, and the others were just sitting down to a dish of nice broiled
ham and some light wheaten biscuits, when Dr. Sheepshanks exclaimed,
with an air of amazement, "Is it possible, my friends, that you are
willing to violate the natural laws of health by eating dishes at which
a child of nature would be horrified! Not for me be so degenerate a
meal! _I_ shall lunch on fare such as a wild Indian best loves!" So
saying, he tucked up his sleeves, called for some unground corn, and
having pounded it in a mortar unti