The thunderstorm broke overhead. The thunder crashed around as if someone were moving heavy furniture up in the sky.
“Hallo! Someone’s dropped a wardrobe, I should think!” said Jack, when an extra heavy crash came!
“And there goes a grand piano tumbling down the stairs!” said Mike, at another heavy rumble. Everyone laughed. Really, the thunderstorm did sound exactly like furniture being thrown about.
The lightning flashed brightly, lighting up the inside of Willow House. Nora was not sure that she liked it. She cuddled up to Mike. “I feel a bit frightened,” she said.
“Don’t be silly!” said Mike. “You’re as bad as those women trippers over the bats! There’s nothing to be frightened of. A storm is a grand thing. We’re perfectly safe here.”
“A storm is just a bit of weather being noisy!” laughed Jack. “Cheer up, Nora. We’re all right. You can think you’re lucky you’re not Daisy the cow. After all, we do know that a storm is only a storm, but she doesn’t.”
Crash! Rumble! Crash! The thunder roared away, and the children made a joke of it, inventing all kinds of furniture tumbling about the sky, as each crash came. The lightning flashed, and each time Jack said, “Thanks very much! The sky keeps striking matches, and the wind keeps blowing them out!”
Even Nora laughed, and soon she forgot to be frightened. The rain pelted down hard, and the only thing that worried Jack was whether or not a rivulet of rain might find its way into Willow House and run along the floor on which they were sitting. But all was well. No rain came in at all.
Gradually the storm died away, and only the pitter-patter of raindrops falling from the trees could be heard, a singing, liquid sound. The thunder went farther and farther away. The lightning flashed for the last time. The storm was over.
“Now we’ll have something to eat and a cup of milk to drink, and off to bed we’ll go,” said Jack. “We’ve had quite enough excitement for to-day! And Mike and I were so late last night that I’m sure he’s dropping with sleep. I know I am.”