Indoor Amusements.
Dinner had not been finished above an hour before the sky became overcast; and, all at once, a rushing, sweeping wind came over the country. Far-off in the distance where the hills could be seen, a thick, misty appearance almost hid them from sight. There was a low, muttering sound, then another, seemingly nearer; then came a dazzling blue flash of lightning that made all the party stationed at the dining-room window start back; and then came a long, rolling, rattling peal of thunder, that sounded as though it had come bellowing through great metal pipes; while before it had died away in the distance, splashing and plunging down came the rain in torrents, ploughing up the flower-beds, and making little rivers run along each side of the gravel-walks. Out in the home-fields the cows and horses were running to get under shelter of the trees, and looked evidently frightened as flash succeeded flash of lightning, and peal after peal of thunder seemed to make the very heavens vibrate as they rolled round and round, east, west, north, and south. The rain kept streaming down so fast that out of doors seemed one great watery mist that could have been almost swum through.
All at once, just in the middle of a clap of thunder, Mary, the housemaid, opened the dining-room door, and hurriedly said something, but what no one could tell, for her voice was drowned by the rumbling peal.
“Oh! my poor verbenas,” said Mrs Inglis.
“Oh! won’t this fill up the carp-pond, jolly!” said Harry.
“Come in, Mary,” said Mrs Inglis; “what’s the matter? Are all the upstairs windows shut?”
“Oh! yes, mem,” said Mary; “but the drain’s stopped in the yard, and Dick’s kennel’s floating, and the water’s all coming into the kitchen.”
“Oh! come and see,” said Harry; and away the whole party went, to be just in time to see the water taking its departure, and Dick’s kennel wrecked, down by the gates where the yard was highest, for Old Sam, in spite of the pelting rain, was punching away at the sink-hole with the stump of an old birch broom, and the water was rushing down it like a little maelstrom; while the bits of straw and twigs that floated near, represented the unfortunate vessels that get caught in that famous whirlpool.
And still the rain kept pelting down, although the lightning ceased to flash, and the thunder grew more and more distant, till it could only be heard to mutter occasionally afar off. And still the rain kept pouring down, even after cook had made up a roaring fire and wiped up all the water, trundling her mop outside the scullery door till it seemed to go off like a wet firework, as she spun and twisted it upon her great red arms. And still it kept raining, after cook had smeared mason’s dust all over the stone floor with the wet mop, and when it had dried up and the floor looked beautiful and white—white like the clean dresser and table that cook used to scrub with soap and sand as though she meant to scrub all the top off. And still it kept on raining, till tea was brought in, and the urn hissed and sputtered upon the table, and at last it became very plain that there would be no more going out that night, to the great disappointment of the boys; for though in London Fred hardly went out at all except for a walk, yet now the liberty of the morning made him feel like a caged bird, and a melancholy feeling seemed to come over all three boys as they sat watching the leaden sky, the dripping leaves, the beaten down flowers, the sandbanks by the walks, and the great drops of water that formed upon the edge of the verandah and porch, and then came down plash upon the stone pavement.
“Oh! come along,” said Harry at last; “I know what we’ll do.”