"I love to see it!" exclaimed Mab. "But I hope it doesn't hail very big stones."
However the stones from the sky—stones of ice that did not melt for some time after they rattled down—were rather large. They bounced up from the sidewalk and on the path around the Blake house.
"Where's Hal?" suddenly asked his father. "I want to show him and Mab how the inside of hail stones look. I'll run out and get some as soon as the shower slackens a little."
It was raining and hailing hard now, and the lightning was flashing brightly, while the thunder was rumbling like big cannon.
"Hal was here a minute ago," said his mother. "I wonder if he could have run out in the storm?"
Just then, from his porch, Mr. Porter called something to Daddy Blake. All Mab and her mother could hear was:
"Hal—hail—umbrella!"
"Oh, I hope nothing has happened to him!" said Mrs. Blake. "You had better go look for him, Daddy!"