RAIN--rain--rain--for three good solid fluid weeks-- Till the air swims, and all creation leaks! And street-cars furnish still less room to spare, And hackmen several times have earned their fare. The omnibuses lumber through the din, And carry clay outside as well as in; The elevated trains, with jerky care, Haul half-way comfort through the dripping air; The gutters gallop past the liquid scene, As brisk as meadow brooks, though not so clean; What trees the city keeps for comfort's sake, Are shedding tears as if their hearts would break; And water tries to get, by storming steady, That fourth of all the world it hasn't already. And men are not so sweet as men could wish, In air that wouldn't offend a moderate fish; Few places can be found, outside or in, Where this dark-featured weather has not been; For man has always striven, and in vain, To roof his _disposition_ from the rain. I've strolled about, this morning, several miles, 'Mongst men who get their living by their smiles; I've set my old umbrella up to drip In places where I claimed relationship (Or, rather, where my heart did; and that's more Than blood connection is, sixteen times o'er); I've journeyed up and down through half Broadway, And did not see a first-class smile to-day. And so, in spite of all that I can do, These gold-bowed spectacles are growing blue; And my old heart must bear along the road A fanciful but rather heavy load; A painful pressure from a hand unseen: Most any one knows nearly what I mean. I think I'll powder up this dark-skinned day, By going, to-night, to hear the actors play! They'll make me laugh, and tone me up a bit, And get me out of this unnatural fit. * * * * * _11 o'clock P.M._ Got back alive; and that's worth thinking on, From where there's been such lots of killing done; Mercy! it was a somewhat skittish sight-- So many people butchered in one night! 'Twas just a lot of people playing crime-- A sort of murder-picnic all the time. We found the theatre with handbills spread, Near where the notice in the paper said (The weather had slacked up an hour or so, And Wife thought she would condescend to go), And after stumbling over several chaps, Who thought they'd met us somewhere else, perhaps, And cheerfully addressed us o'er and o'er, As if they'd known us several years or more, Persisting in affording us a chance To buy our tickets at a slight advance (The theatres employ these men, I've heard, To greet their patrons with a friendly word, And light their way in with kind word and smile, And make a dollar out of them meanwhile); We brushed past these remarkable "dead-beats," Some tickets bought, and scrambled to our seats.