'The thirsty earth soaks up the rain,
And drinks and gapes for drink again;
The plants suck in the earth and are,
With constant drinking, fresh and fair.'

But it did rain; and it didn't wait until they were out of the canyon either. It began long before the proper time, and it by no means confined itself to a shower, but opened the winter season fully a month before there was any need of it, and behaved altogether in a most heartless and inconsiderate manner, like a very spoil-sport of a rain.

It began after dark, so as to be just as disagreeable as possible, and under the too slight cover of their tents the campers could hear the rush and the roar of it like the tramping of myriad feet on the leaves. Pancho and the two Chinamen huddled under the broad sycamores in their rubber blankets, and were dry and comfortable; but all the waterproof tents leaked, save Elsie's.

But when it was dawn, the Sun, having heard nothing apparently of any projected change in the weather, rose at the usual time in the most resplendent fashion--brighter, rosier, and more gloriously, if you will believe me, than he had risen that whole long sunshiny summer! And he really must have felt paid for getting up at such an unearthly hour in the morning, when, after he had clambered over the grey mountain peaks, he looked down upon Las Flores Canyon, bathed in the light of his own golden beams.

If he knew anything about Ancient History and Biblical Geography--and if he didn't I don't know who should, inasmuch as he had been present from the beginning of time--he must have thought it as fair as the Garden of Eden; for Nature's face simply shone with cleanliness, like that of a smiling child just fresh from its bath, and every leaf of every tree glistened as he beamed upon it, and shook off its crystal drops that he might turn them into diamonds.

'It was only a shower,' said Dr. Winship, as he seated himself on a damp board and partook of a moist breakfast, 'and with this sun the tents will be dry before night; Elsie has caught no cold, the dust will be laid, and we can stay another week with safety.'

Everybody was hilarious over this decision save the men-of-all-work, who longed unspeakably for a less poetic existence--Hop Yet particularly, who thought camping out 'not muchee good.'

Dicky was more pleased than anybody, perhaps, as every day in the canyon was one day less............