Then there's an awful rumpus.

In a minute or two she'll wave her hand and--presto! It will stop raining.

But," with a distressed look out into the thick of it, "it would be a beastly joke if lightning should happen to strike that nag of mine.

I'd not only have to walk to town, but I'd have to pay three prices for the brute." "I think she's perfectly--ooh!--perfectly wonderful.

Goodness, that was a crash! Where do you think it struck ?" "If you'll stand over here a little closer I'll point out the tree.