CHAPTER XXVIII. 



A SOUTHERLY KATCT. 



" WHAT about to-morrow ? " I asked Uz, as we stood 

 on the brow of the hill and gazed over the meadows at 

 our feet, now partially enveloped in a silvery mist. 



Uz wet his forefinger and held it up, looking closely 

 at the movement of the few fleecy clouds above as he 

 did so. After a brief pause he replied, with the air of 

 one well convinced of the truth of his opinion, " There'll 

 be a southerly rain and ducks." 



A word about weather predictions. I am compelled 

 to admit that I have faith in the judgment of men like 

 old Uz Gaunt, when they pronounce an opinion as to the 

 morrow or a day or two beyond ; but he, like all other 

 men, fails in the matter of foretelling seasons. 



Uz does not like my referring to the winter of 1880- 

 '81. His prediction, which he early made known to me, 

 was quite the opposite of what the season proved to be. 

 He consoled himself, however, with the earnest protest, 

 that he was never before mistaken; and that "covers 

 three more than fifty years " since he commenced solving 

 the riddle of what the winters will be. 



" Natur' knows what's comin'," he has often said to 

 me, " and Natur' gets ready for winter, to suit the sort of 

 weather it's goin' to be." 



This is a common impression in my neighborhood, 

 and I presume is so everywhere ; but it will not stand the 



