Now let us see how the ancients looked at this question. Almost since the beginning of history there has been a theory—a silly one, says one scientist—that battles caused rain. Battles, not explosives, observe, for in the early[Pg 64] centuries, A. D., there were no gunpowder or similar explosives.
“Banish the thought,” says Forecaster Pennywitt, of the United States Weather Bureau, in discussing the question of explosives and rainfall. “There never was a more absurd idea. Not in all the history of the world is it recorded that human endeavor wrung rain from the skies, either intentionally or unknowingly. Rain falls by the will of nature only, and the influence of man over nature, in so far as producing rain is concerned, does not exist.
“None of men’s activities on earth has the slightest effect on the rainfall. If nature decrees it shall rain, then rain it will; no other power or force can bring precipitation.
“Almost since the beginning of history there has been a silly theory that battles caused rain. This was the case even before gunpowder came into use. The Greek writer, Plutarch, as far back as the year 150 A. D., held the belief that the glitter and clash of the sabers of the ancient Greek and Roman warriors on the field of honor produced rain. He believed it because it generally rained after every battle. As a matter of fact, it had to rain after every battle, because they fought only on clear days in those times; and, besides, it always rains once every three days in the year, according to average.
“After gunpowder became an instrument of destruction, rains during time of war were blamed on it. Even the United States government has shared this belief that powder will produce rain, and it wasted thousands of dollars trying to make it rain in Texas. Similar experiments were made in Europe several years ago, and in France one scientist thought that by employing the explosive he could transform hail into more harmless rain.
“Strange as it may seem to a good many people, there has been less than a normal rainfall in western Pennsylvania and other eastern districts during the last six months.”
Bees Settle in a Mail Box.
The wanderlust of summer got into the blood of a swarm of bees belonging to Leo Nickoli, 448 Bellaire Avenue, Kansas City, Mo. They circled in the air and flew away. Mr. Nickoli followed.
The awning in front of the drug store of the Klee Drug Company first attracted the bees. But finding no place to alight there, the bees transferred their attentions to a mail box near by. In a moment the box was the center of the swarm, who were preparing to settle down among the letters.
Mr. Nickoli, however, had different plans. With a hive baited with honey comb, he began coaxing the bees into a new home. A crowd of two hundred persons watched his operation, which lasted several hours.