TRAY AND THE DEUCE.
THE CHANGE IN THE WEATHER.
"Well, what do you think of the Weather?"
(Smith, whom we meet frequently.)
The English, climate, so long considered a capital joke, is becoming a very serious matter. They were not Dog-Days last summer; they were Hyæna, Kangaroo, Elephant, Boa-Constrictor days.
If so unnatural a state of things is to be repeated, England will no longer occupy her present position in the world. She will be somewhere else. There will be no place like home. Home itself will not bear the slightest resemblance to it. We shall be all abroad—every British child will be born a foreigner.
Nationality will be at an end. With the loss of our climate, on which the British Constitution so closely depends, it is impossible that we should continue to be the same people.
What will avail the boast that Britons never never shall be slaves, when there is such an immediate likelihood of their becoming niggers?
Our isolated position makes the prospect all the more alarming. The country must be in a continual state of hot water.