Chapter VII: A Rainy Day

"OH, mamma, a rainy day! I'm so sorry," sighed Willie.

"Well, Willie, I don't think we must complain. One day of rain after nearly a month of fine weather, is not so very bad."

"But we are going home in a few days, and perhaps it will rain all the time," said Willie in a very dismal voice.

"Not at all likely, Willie. I daresay it will be quite fine again in a day or two. It may even clear up this evening. Come, don't waste time in gazing out of the window. That will do you no good."

"I have nothing to do, mamma."

"Nothing to do! Where is that nice book papa gave you?"

"I have read it all through, mamma."

"Suppose you draw me a picture then. Here is a pencil, and a piece of paper."

Willie slowly sat down, and made a few listless strokes, then threw the pencil on the table, with a yawn.

"I don't know what to draw, mamma. I wish it would stop raining."

"Wishing won't do much good. Draw a picture of a little boy riding along on a donkey, or digging in the sand, or bathing in the sea."

"Oh, I can't, mamma. I don't know how to draw."

"Come, Willie, don't be pettish. I shall begin to think you have had too much fun and play, and want to go home again."

"I don't want to go home, mamma," said Willie, looking very downcast. "I should like to stay at the sea-side."

"Indeed, Willie, I should be sorry for you to do so much longer, if you cannot bear a single wet day here with good-temper. At home you can be happy enough when it rains."

"My toys and books are all there, mamma."

"Poor little boy! Well, suppose you come and hold this skein of wool for me while I wind it. That will be useful, at all events."

Willie did as he was asked, but he did not look any brighter. For a minute or two Mrs. Gray wound in silence, and then she asked in a cheerful tone—

"What has Lucy been doing all the morning?"

"Playing, mamma."

"Don't you think she would have been much more happy, Willie, if she had spent her time in gazing out of the window, longing for the rain to stop?"

"She doesn't mind staying in doors so much as I do," said Willie, hanging his head, and looking very much as if he wanted to cry.

"Because, I suppose, she has been too busy to think about it. What a pity you have not been the same. Take care; you are letting my skein slip off your hand. Now you must hold it quite tight while I undo this knot. That is right. What do you think papa said to me this morning?"

"I don't know, mamma."

"He was so glad to see the rain come at last."

Willie looked as if he thought such a remark very strange, to say the least. Glad to see the rain!

"You don't know why, do you? Rain is very much wanted just now in England. There has been so little that the grass is getting parched and dry, and if we were without it much longer, the harvest this year would be a very bad one."

"I don't like the rain," said Willie, in a low tone.

"Not for its own sake, perhaps; but for the sake of the poor, you ought to be glad to see it, Willie. It seems very hard to you to be kept in for one day, when you want to go out. But how do you think you would feel, if you were a poor little ragged boy, and knew that unless the rain fell, the corn would not grow, and bread would be so dear all the winter that you must expect to be often half-starved."

"I shouldn't like it," said Willie. "Are little boys often half-starved?"

"Very often, when their fathers and mothers have not enough money to buy all the food they want. And the more the bread costs, the less they can buy."

"Does it cost more when there isn't much rain?" asked Willie.

"Of course it does, Willie. You know that corn, like grass and plants, cannot grow without water, and if it has not enough, it is poor and stunted, and gives only a small supply of flour to make bread. Then there is less bread than usual, and people have to pay more for it. We have not had rain now for a long time, and only a day or two ago we heard that some farmers were very anxious about their corn. They were afraid that a great deal of it would be quite spoiled."

"Do they want much rain, mamma?" asked Willie, in a very sober tone.

"Not a very great deal, I daresay. But this nice steady down-pour is just what they wish for. There is one more reason why I never like to see little boys or girls pettish and cross about the weather. You know who sends the rain, or makes it fine, Willie?"

"Yes, mamma," said Willie.

"God sends it, Willie, and therefore it must be right, and the best weather we could have. Even when we cannot see that it is so, we ought to believe it."

Willie gave a sigh.

"I won't be cross any more, mamma. I'll draw a picture when the skein is done, and then I'll go and have a game with Lucy. She asked me to play, and I wouldn't."

"That is right, Willie. I am glad to see a bright face again. For your sake I hope the rain will not go on long,—not longer than is needed to make the corn grow."