Все . пересказать текст: george got hold of the paper, and read us the weather fore cast “rain, cold, wet to fine, occasional local thunderstorms, east wind with general depression over the ‘midland counties’.” i do think that, of all the silly, irritating tomfoolishness by which we are plagued, this “weather forecast” fraud is about the most ag gravating. it “forecasts” precisely what happened yesterday or the day before, and precisely the opposite of what is going to happen today. i remember a holiday of mine being completely ruined one late autumn by our paying attention to the weather report of the local newspaper. “heavy showers, with thunderstorms, may be expected today,” it would say, and so we would give up our pic nic, and stop indoors all day, waiting for the rain. and people would pass the house, going off in wagonettes and coaches as jolly and merry as could be, the sun shining out, and not a cloud to be seen. “ah,” we said, as we stood looking out at them through the window, “won’t they come home soaked! ” and we chuckled to think how wet they were going to get. by twelve o’clock, with the sun pouring into the room, the heat became quite oppressive, and we wondered when those heavy showers and occasional thunderstorms were going to begin. at one o’clock the landlady would come in to ask if we weren’t go ing out, as it seemed such a lovely day. “no, no,” we replied, with a knowing chuckle, “not we. we don’t mean to get wet — no, no.” but not a drop ever fell, and it finished a grand day, and a lovely night after it. the next morning we would read that it was going to be a “warm fine to setfair day, much heat,” and we would dress our selves in flimsy things, and go out, and, halfanhour after we had started, it would commence to rain hard, and a bitterly cold wind would spring up, and both would keep on steadily for the whole day, and we could come home with cools and rheumatism all over us, and go to bed. the weather is a thing that is beyond me altogether. i never can understand it.
