"More nonsense," observed Willie to Maude. "What does it all mean?" They looked out of window and saw the Zankiwank arguing with the Clerk of the Weather and the Weather Cock on top of the vane of a large building outside. Every minute they expected to see them tumble down, but they did not, so to cheer them up the Jackarandajam stood on his head and sang them this comic song:—
The Clerk of the Weather.
The Clerk of the Weather went out to walk
All down Victoria Street;
Of late his ways had caused much talk,
And chatter indiscreet.
So he donned a suit of mingled sleet,
With a dash of falling snow,
A rainy tie, and a streaky skye
Which barked where'er he'd go.
Then, to the surprise of Willie and Maude, the Jackarandajam began to dance wildly, while the Weather Cock sang as follows:—
O cock-a-doodle-doo!
The weather will be fine—
If it does not sleet or hail or snow,
And if it does not big guns blow,
And the sun looks out to shine.
The Jackarandajam stood on his head again and sang the second verse:—
Wrapt up in his thoughts he went along,
His manner sad and crossed;
With a windy strain he hummed a song,
Of thunderbolts and frost.
He strode with a Barometrical stride,
With forecasts on his brow;
Till he tripped up Short upon a slide,
Which made him vow a vow.
The Weather Cock at once sang the chorus and the Jackarandajam danced as before.