OUR METEOROLOGICAL REPORT.
The public is much indebted to a gentleman named Lowe, who lives at Bermondsey, and writes every day to the Times, to inform the world which way the wind blew on the preceding day, how much rain fell late in the evening, what amount of cloud was floating about at a particular hour of the day, and other equally interesting particulars. On Tuesday this gentleman reports his detection of some "cirri," and he kindly writes to the Times to give the world the benefit of the discovery.
Anxious to make ourselves generally useful, we have attempted a few meteorological observations on our own account, and the following is the report we have to offer:—
Barometer fell—to the ground and smashed.
Thermometer rose to blood heat—having been turned upside down by an infant.
Direction of wind—right in our own face.
Amount of rain—.001 in. in our umbrella stand.
Amount of cloud—9 from our own tobacco-pipe. Should our scientific observations as recorded above tend to throw any light upon anything, we are more than satisfied.
