Year: 1876




We do not at all wonder that Saturday
last was fine, cool and balmy. Old Probs
and all the young Probs were Interested in
having it So An Englishman named Row
land, who does little genteel weather busi.
ness, prognosticating when his countrymen
may expect hole or two in the British fog,
ventured to predict thunderstorm in New
York for last Saturday. He sent it by cable
the prediction, but not the thunder Never
did announcement create q similar furry
among meteorologists Here was daring
Englishman. We consulted all the home
authorities as to whether Rowland could be
right. One meteorologist in particular,
whose skull is an aneroid barometer, who
has a quicksilver thermometer for hot
weather inside one forearm and q spirit
thermometer for cold weather in the other,
whose entire frame is studded over
with the dials, glass bulbs and brass knobs
of thermometers. electrometers and hygrr M
eters, we questioned. inviting him to take
walk on the Battery and discuss the sub
iect He could not walk on the Battery, a.
the sun was hot and his peculiar scient fic
construction demanded he should be kept
strange clicking was heard inside his
mouth he opened little brass trap-door
in his cheek and allowed telegraph tape to
run out covered with the records of the va
rious instruments he was composed OF
''Storm on Saturday? Well, you'll see, he
bu Iaor
tee that before Saturday comes you will
not have square yard of available storm
within hundred miles Of New York"
Several electric sparks flashed from eye to
eye, and he chuckled with q harsh sound
like an unoiled weathercock swinging in
nor'easter. Suppose" we said, 'this Row.
land sends thunderstorm over the At
lantic." Suppose" replied the mystic
meteorologist, 'the sun was to rise in tho
west; suppose you asked water to run up
hill. All nonsense; no storm ever came
that way He might send one round by
Asia and the Pacific Ocean; but, Lord,
when you consider the little place
he has to make his storms in, you'll
see that they wouldn't be moro
than mere puff by the time they reached
San Francisco, and the Sierras, anyhow,
would take the wind out of them. No, sir.
Leave him to us. Well settle him and his
thunderstorm. First of all, we'll get off our
present stock of thunder and lightning;
then we'll bring on little northerly and
easterly wind; cloud up little here and
there; rain now and then; have the air cool
and the earth fresh get our barometric
pressures more level all over, and then lei
any insulated Englishman that has mind
send on his thunder" We left the old
tyrant observing himself all over, and chuck.
ling at his telegraph tape. He was right
The weather began to cool off, to grow breezy.
to cloud up, to have an occasional shower.
Saturday came, and no thunderstorm. The
truth dawned upon u.s. Rowland's threat
had frightened the Prob family into putting
an end to the hot spell; for, as the mystic be
ing above alluded to subsequently remarked,
'sWith nice, unhealthy, boiling weather OF
hand thunder is liable to run loose at any mo
ment Any fool knows that. Isuppose thi
fellow Rowland or Towland, or whatever hi
name, heard how we were roasting you, ani
thought he might hit on a thunderstorm
any time, but the old mans not to be taken
in on those terms"