One's Own Back Door-yard 171 



steps of the back porch, the rain fairly stream- 

 ing down his long rubber coat. 



He was laughing and chuckling and looked 

 the very picture of merriment. 



" Isn't it an awful shame, Ben? " I began. 

 " This nasty old rain has spoiled all our fun, 

 and now we can't take the trip to the pond." 



" Fiddlesticks, boy. Yes, we can. Why, 

 I expect to go next Saturday. You needn't 

 go along unless you want to, but I propose to 

 go." 



" I almost know it will rain and be another 

 horrid day just like this one," I said. " Isn't 

 it an awful shame that it rains to-day, Ben? " 



" Well, no, Harry, I can't positively say 

 that it is, if you want me to tell the ' honest- 

 Injun-truth.' You see there are a great 

 many people in the world and it is awful hard 

 for God to suit them all at the same time. 

 The poor farmers, who raise all the good 

 things for us to eat, have been wishing for 

 rain for weeks. Everything was gettin' shriv- 

 eled up; crops were all spilin'. If this state 

 of affairs had kept up much longer why we 



