"Doesn't the west wind bring rain clouds?" asked Tom, remembering that it usually did in Buffalo.
"Yes," said the Mayor, "that is right."
"Then it rains here in Hightown where you have a perfect climate?" asked the boy, remembering his disgust with the rain at home.
"Not at all," replied the Mayor. "There is no gravity to pull the raindrops earthward, so it can't rain. We just go out wading in the rain cloud."
"That's quite a plant," said the Shaggy Man, staring at the flower pot with its beautiful blossoms.
"It's much more than that," said the Mayor. "Certainly since we have the most perfect weather in the world in Hightown, we would have the most perfect weather forecaster. That's just what the plant is."
While Tom was trying to puzzle out why, if Hightown always had perfect weather, it needed any weather forecaster at all, the door of the Mayor's home opened and they were welcomed by a tall, thin woman in a blue checked bungalow apron. She proved to be the Mayor's wife.
The good woman immediately served dinner, hurrying about and doing her best to make the visitors at home. She was particularly pleasant to Twink and Tom and was greatly amazed and a little awed by Twiffle.
Strangely enough, the food consisted entirely of fruits, but they were all fresh and tasty.
When the meal was over, the Lord High Mayor announced that it was time for a nap.