o the two wagons still
unhitched. They, the four-footed things, knew what the thunder and the
darkness meant. They knew, somehow, that the upper canyon was no place
for them, and, reasoning in the four-footed way, they exercised the
limbs they had, obeying the orders of such brains as they owned, and
gathering themselves together for independent action, went down the
canyon clatteringly in a bunch.

Foodless and scared, the picnickers huddled far up the little canyon's
side and sat awed and watchful as the lightning flashed about them and
the waters rose beneath them. The torrent of rain loosened the soil
above, and they were so drenched in clay-colored water coming down, and
sat so still beneath it, that they looked like cheap terra cotta images.

Suddenly the thunder ceased, the rainfall ended, and this particular
slight area of Arizona was Arizona again. The power of the rain-maker
was limited. Through four yellow miles of yellow muck, beside a
temporarily yellow stream, waded for hours wearily a dreadful picnic
party, seeking in disgust the town of Cougarville. They reached their
separate homes somehow, and washed and went to bed.

In the Cougarville Screamer of the following morning appeared a graphic
account of the great exploit of "Professor" Gray, of the Department of
Agriculture, who on the preceding day had, after taking his force into
the foothills and utilizing the means at his command, attained the
greatest rainfall of the season. Of course it was to be regretted that a
picnic including the elite of Cougarville was in progress beside the
creek of the canyon alongside which Professor Gray operated, but
scientists could not be expected to know anything of social functions,
and all was for the best. One of the mules and one of the burros had
been recovered. It was a great day for Cougarville. "Now," concluded the
account, "since the means for irrigation are assured, the valleys about
our promising city will bloom eternally fresh, and no one doubts the
location of the metropolis of the region."

As for Gray, he met Miss Fleming on the day succeeding, and if withering
glances ever really withered anything, he would have been as a dry leaf.
But he did not wither. He went East, and is now connected with the
Pennsylvania Broad Gauge. Miss Fleming married Mr. Muggles, and I
understand the store is doing only moderately well. What puzzles me is
that after Gray's triumph up the canyon on this occasion, the United