Take your gripsack and get along.

The thing for _you_ to do is to go home and work the weather, John W.Merlin." It was a home shot, and it made him wince; for he was the worst weather-failure in the kingdom.

Whenever he ordered up the danger-signals along the coast there was a week's dead calm, sure, and every time he prophesied fair weather it rained brickbats.
But I kept him in the weather bureau right along, to undermine his reputation.

However, that shot raised his bile, and instead of starting home to report my death, he said he would remain and enjoy it.
My two experts arrived in the evening, and pretty well fagged, for they had traveled double tides.

They had pack-mules along, and had brought everything I needed--tools, pump, lead pipe, Greek fire, sheaves of big rockets, roman candles, colored fire sprays, electric apparatus, and a lot of sundries--everything necessary for the stateliest kind of a miracle.