Not only does the upward movement of the whole system vary, but the velocity of the wind around any given cyclonic center varies. There are about eleven classes of cyclones that appear in the United States, each class having its own path of movement and origin. A large number of these appear to originate north of the Dakotas, and move directly east to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Three other classes originate on about the same line, a little west,—say, north of Montana,—moving first in a southeasterly direction, passing over the center of Lake Michigan and bending northerly through Lake Ontario and finally landing in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Two other classes start at the same point, one of them going as far south as Cincinnati, and the other as far south as Montgomery, Ala., and both turning at these points northeasterly to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Two other classes originate in Colorado, one moving in a northeasterly direction slightly curved, and the other directly east. Still others have their origin farther south in the Gulf of Mexico, and move in a northeasterly direction. Very rarely they originate in the Atlantic east of Savannah, moving first in a northwesterly direction, but finally bending to the northeast.

Every day there is a weather map made up showing the locations of the high and low barometers, direction of wind, lines of equal pressure, as well as those of temperature. By study from year to year all of these phenomena have become systematized, so that by tracing an area of low barometer from its origin in its progress easterly it is soon seen to fall under one of these classes and we are able to predict about what its course will be. Knowing the speed of its movement as well as the velocity of wind and all the conditions attending it, taken in connection with the weather conditions in the region for which the prediction is made, an expert can ordinarily forecast with some degree of accuracy. After all that can be said, however, weather predictions based upon maps are and have been far from satisfactory. One who has been a close student of local conditions for a number of years will often predict with as great accuracy as the weather bureau. Areas of low pressure are followed sooner or later by a fall of temperature; this is especially true in the winter months. Sometimes this fall is very marked, and then it is called a cold wave. These sudden changes of temperature are not thoroughly understood, but are supposed to be due partly at least to rapid radiation of heat into the upper regions, as the clear atmosphere which usually attends areas of high pressure is favorable to such a condition. Undoubtedly, too, there are dynamic causes, forcing the colder air from the upper regions to the earth, when it immediately flows off toward an area of low barometer.

Long-time predictions are purely guesses. They sometimes guess on the right side, and this gives them courage to make another. It is an old saying that "all signs fail in dry weather." In time of a drought it is true that the indications which at ordinary times would be surely followed by a rain are of no value. When a season is once established, either as a rainy season or a dry season, it is likely to persist in this character until a change comes that is produced by the movement of the sun in its course northerly and southerly, and the change produced from this cause requires several weeks of time.

If accurate weather predictions could be made for a long time in advance, or for even a week, they would be of incalculable value. But it is doubtful if ever this will be brought about, as there are too many necessarily hidden factors which enter into the calculations. If stations could be established all over the oceans with sufficient frequency, and an equal number at a sufficient altitude in the air, I have no doubt that much that is now mysterious might be made plain.


CHAPTER XIV.

HOW DEW IS FORMED.

Reader, did you ever live in the country? Were you ever awakened early on a summer's morning to "go for the cows"? Did you ever wade through a wheat field in June—or the long grass of a meadow—when the pearly dewdrops hung in clusters on the bearded grain, shining like brilliants in the morning sun? Have you not seen the blades of grass studded with diamonds more beautiful than any that ever flashed in the dazzling light of a ballroom? If not, you have missed a picture that otherwise would have been hung on the walls of your memory, that no one could rob you of.

Everyone has noticed that at certain times in the year the grass becomes wet in the evening and grows more so till the sun rises the next day and dispels the moisture, and this when no cloud is seen. Dew is as old as the fields in which grass grows. It was as familiar to the ancients as it is to us, and yet it is only about three-quarters of a century since the cause of it has been understood. We even yet speak of the dew "falling" like rain. In former times some scientists supposed that it was a fine rain that fell from the higher regions of the atmosphere. Others supposed it to be an emanation from the earth, while still others supposed it was an exudation from the stars.