The Bottineau pioneer. (Bottineau, N.D.) 1885-1895, 1895-02-16

"Mark Twain on the Weather.
At a New England dinner in New
York, Mark Twain delivered the follow
ing speech, amidst frequent Interrupt
tons Of laughter and applause:
I reverently believe that the maker
who made us all makes everything in
New England but the weather.
1 don't know who makes that, but
I think, it must be run by apprentices
in the weather clerks factory, who ex-
pertinent and learn how in New Eng
land, for board and clothes, ETC., then
are promoted to make weather for
countries that require a good article
and will take their custom elsewhere
If they don't get it.
There is q sumptuous variety about
the New England weather that compels
the strangers admiration-and regret.
The weather is always doing some
thing there, always attending strictly
to business, always getting up new de-
signs and trying them on the people
to see how they will 60. But it gets
through more business in the spring
than in any other season. In the spring
I have counted 1876 different kinds Of
weather inside of four and twenty
hours.
It was I that made the fame and for
tune of that man that had that mar
velous collection of weather on exhibit
ton at the Centennial that SO astounded
the foreigners.
He was going to travel all over the
world and get specimens from all
climes. I said: Don't you do it; you
to New England on q favorable
spring day." I told him what we could
do in the way of style, variety and
quantity. Well, he came, and he made
his collection in four days. AS to varie-
ty; why, he confessed he got hundreds
Of kinds of weather that he had never
heard of before. And as to quantity;
well, after he had picked out and dis
carded all that were blemished in any
way, he not only had weather enough,
but weather to spare; weather to hire
out; weather to sell; weather to deposit;
weather to invest; weather to give to
the poor.
The people of New England are by
nature patient and f%orbearing; but there
are some things that they will not
stand. Every year they kill a lot Of
poets for writing about Beautiful
Spring. These are generally casual
visitors, who bring their notions Of
spring from somewhere else. and can
not, of course, know how the natives
feel about spring. And so. the first
thing they know, the opportunity to
inquire how they feel has permanently
gone by. Old Probabilities has 4 mighty
reputation for accurate prophecy, and
thoroughly well deserves it. You take
up the papers and observe how crisply
and confidently he checks off what to-
days weather is going to be on the
Pacific, down South, in the Middle
states, in the Wisconsin region; see him
sail along in the joy and pride Of his
power till he gets to New England,
and then see his tail drop. He doesn't
know what the weather is to be in
New England. He can't any more tell
n he can tell how many presidents
of the United States there are going to
be. Well, he mulls over it, and by and
by he gets out something like this:
probable northeast to southwest
winds, varying to the southwark and
westward and eastward and points be-
tween; high and low barometer, sweep
ing around from place to place; proba-
bic areas of rain, snow, hail and drouth,
succeeded or preceded by earthquakes,
with thunder and lightning" Then he
jots down this post script from
his wandering mind to cover accidents:
"Rut it is possible that the programme
may be wholly changed in the mean
time" Yes, one of the brightest gems
in the New England weather is the
dazzling uncertainty of it.
There is only IN thing certain about
1t; you are certain there is going to be
plenty Of weather. A perfect grand
review; but yOn never can tell which
end of the procession is going to move
first. You fix up for the drouth, you
leave your umbrella in the house and
sally out with your sprinkling pot, and
ten to one you get drowned. You make
up your mind that the earthquake is
due; you stand from under and take
hold OF something to steady yourself,
and the first thing you know you get
struck by lightning. These are great
disappointments; but they can't be help
ed. The lightning there is peculiar;
1t Is so convincing when it strikes
a thing it doesn't leave enough Of that
behind for you to tell whether-well,
you'd think it was something valuable,
and. a congressman had been there.
And the thunder. When the thunder
commences merely to tune up, and
scrape and saw and key up the instru-
ments for the performance, strangers
say, "Why, what awful thunder you
have here" But when the baton is
raised and the real concert begins, you'll
find that stranger down in the cellar,
with his head in the ash barrel. Now,
as to the size of the weather in New
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS, I mean. It is ut
terly disproportionate to the size Of
that little country. Half the time when
it is packed as full as it can stick, you
will see that New England weather
sticking out beyond the edges, and pro-
jecting around hundreds and hundreds
of miles I'VE the neighboring states.
She can't hold a tenth part Of her
weather. You can see cracks all about,
where she has strained herself trying
to do it.
I like to hear rain on a tin roof.
SO I covered part of my roof with
tin, with an eye to that luxury. Well,
sir, do your think it ever rains on the
tin? No, sir; skips it every time. Mind,
in this speech, I have been trying mere
~ to- do honor to the New England
weather; no language could do it just
loo Rut afto. all fhoro oro Of Iooc<