However, Mrs. Hungerford was bent upon enjoying and making others enjoy this visit; and she laughingly assured him that they were all “fog proof.”
“Every one of us has overshoes, umbrella, and raincoat. We feminines I mean and ‘boys’ aren’t supposed to mind any sort of weather. Am I not right, Melvin?”
“Yes, Mrs. Hungerford, I fancy you are. We have so much wet weather we’re ’most unprepared for sunshine, don’t you know.”
This was so long a remark for Melvin, and so thoroughly “English” with its “fancy” and “don’t you know,” that all laughed.
But they waked in the morning to find the Judge’s fear of a fog justified. The whole city was a-drip. The decorations which had been so crisp and brilliant on the day before hung limp and already discolored; and the scarlet and white bunting which had been so artistically wreathed about columns and cornices now clung tightly to them as if shivering in the wet.
It was a disheartened populace, too, which one met upon the street; for the expense had been great in preparations for the Governor’s visit and the week of Carnival that had been planned seemed doomed to a series of disappointments.
None the less Auntie Lu held her brother to his promise to escort them everywhere; and everywhere they went, though mostly in covered carriages or under dripping umbrellas. One morning when the sunshine came for a brief visit they hastened to the street before the Provincial building to hear the most famous band in all the Canadas give its open air concert. Other people besides themselves had flocked thither at the first ray from the sun and now crowded the pavements surrounding the iron-fenced grounds. Everybody waxed enthusiastic and hopeful till—suddenly a drop fell on the tip of the band leader’s nose. He cast one glance skyward but continued to wield his baton with great flourish and skill. Another drop; many; and the summer crowd swiftly dispersed. Not so our sightseers from the States. But let Dorothy tell the tale in her own words and in the journal-letter she faithfully tried to keep for Father John:
“Dear Father:—
“Since we’ve been here in Halifax I haven’t had a chance to write as regular as I ought. You see we come home so tired and wet every time that—Well, I just can’t really write.
“We went to an open air concert in the heart of the city. The band was, were—which is right? Anyhow the men all had on their Sunday uniforms, the most beautiful red and brass and buttons, and their instruments shone like anything. It rained, still they didn’t even wink, except the head of them. He was brillianter dressed than any of them and he didn’t like the rain. You could see that plain as plain. They all had little stands before them with their music on and the music got wet and splattery, but they didn’t stop. They just tossed one piece of music down and began another, after they’d waited a little bit of while, to get their breath, I reckon. By and by all the people, nearly, had gone away from the sidewalk yet the band played right along.