WE A THERCOCKS. 



127 



DURING a six-mile drive, recently, I passed by 

 eleven barns, upon nine of which were weather- 

 cocks. No two, I am positive, pointed in the 

 same direction, and only one was very near to 

 being right. Such, at least, was the conclusion, 

 testing them by the compass, the movement of 

 the clouds, and the wetted fingers which my 

 companion and myself held up. Alas ! I and my 

 friend were at odds so far as the last test was 

 concerned. It is little wonder that weather-proph- 

 ets are so apt to be at loggerheads, if the di- 

 rection of the wind admits of discussion. Could 

 the various shapes of these weathercocks have 

 had to do with the matter, assuming that the nine 

 we saw were in working order ? If so, what is 

 a reliable pattern ? I remember a remarkable 

 wooden Indian with one foot raised as if the fel- 

 low was hopping, and with an impossible bow so 

 held as to indicate that an arrow was about to 

 be discharged. This wooden man obediently 

 twirled to and fro in every passing breeze ; but 

 you were left in a quandary as to whether the 

 wind's direction was indicated by the uplifted 

 foot or by the bow and arrow ; for they pointed 

 in opposite directions. " That is the merit of 

 the vane," once said the owner of the barn over 



