It will stop directly after the next thunder-clap.

There it is!" A flash came with the words, and in about half a minute the thunder.
Then the rain ceased.
"Now we should be going!" said the raven, and stepped to the front of the porch.
"Going where ?" I asked.
"Going where we have to go," he answered.

"You did not surely think you had got home?
I told you there was no going out and in at pleasure until you were at home!" "I do not want to go," I said.
"That does not make any difference--at least not much," he answered.
"This is the way!" "I am quite content where I am." "You think so, but you are not.

Come along." He hopped from the porch onto the grass, and turned, waiting.
"I will not leave the house to-day," I said with obstinacy.
"You will come into the garden!" rejoined the raven.
"I give in so far," I replied, and stepped from the porch.
The sun broke through the clouds, and the raindrops flashed and sparkled on the grass.

The raven was walking over it.
"You will wet your feet!" I cried.
"And mire my beak," he answered, immediately plunging it deep in the sod, and drawing out a great wriggling red worm.