THE TEMPERATURE 57 



ware ewer on the washhand-stand. It 

 was not unlike the reedy sigh of a steady 

 quiet wind on the riverside. Shw-sh-sh 

 may represent it. The strange sound was 

 lost in an explosion. The jug had burst 

 at the neck. On examining, I found that 

 the water had become a solid block of ice. 

 Here, as in the incident narrated by M. 

 Verne, the explanation was not far to 

 seek. During the night the water had 

 been chilled below freezing-point ; but it 

 had remained fluid because it had remained 

 still. Shaken by my movements in the 

 room, it had quickly congealed ; in doing 

 so it had expanded, and the vessel gave 

 way where its narrowing-in caused the 

 ice to have the greatest pressure. 



The other occasion was in the Perth- 

 shire Highlands late in February. The 

 journey from London, overnight, had 

 been tiresome, and it was very refresh- 

 ing to be in the sunlit clean air of the 

 mountains. What was more natural than 

 that, seeing a trout-rod hanging ready in 

 the hall, one should think of a stroll with 



