The household was awakened in the middle of the night by peals of thunder and the rush of rain against the windows. Chicken Little was drenched before she could get the window down next their bed.
“I don’t care,” she said, as she hunted out a dry gown, “it’s raining and Ernest can go to college.”
They slept late the following morning. The rain was coming down in a steady, business-like way that gladdened the heart of every farmer on the creek. Dr. Morton was jubilant.
“This will save the corn and make thousands of dollars difference in the hay yield in the country,” he remarked at the breakfast table.
“That’s what I don’t like about farming,” said Ernest. “So much depends on things that you can’t 239help. A man can work like a dog, and along comes a drouth or chinch bugs or too much rain during the haying season and, presto, all his fond hopes are knocked sky high.”
“Well,” replied his father, “I guess there are mighty few businesses or professions where you don’t have to take chances. By the way, Son, I’m beginning to be afraid your hopes of Annapolis may be disappointed. I don’t understand why Senator Pratt ignores my letter this way.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Father, Captain Clarke heard at the hotel yesterday that Senator Pratt has been seriously ill for several weeks, but they’ve been keeping it quiet. They say he’s just beginning to take up his affairs again.”
“We may hear then in a day or two. I believe I’ll go to town to-day–it’s too wet to do any work.”
The day dragged for the young people indoors. They tried dominoes and authors, but the boys soon found these tame and settled down by themselves to chess as more worthy of a masculine intellect.
The rain ceased and the sun came out about two o’clock. Gertie was in the midst of a letter home, but Katy and Chicken Little hurried outdoors into the moist, fresh air joyfully.