"Alice! Hurry and wake up ’cause we’re stopped and we’re right in the middle of Niagara Falls and it’s a-falling down!" Alice stirred drowsily and then, as she realized what her sister was saying, she sat up straight with a start of amazement. "Why, Mary Jane Merrill, what are you saying?" she asked. "The train doesn’t stop at the Falls—it doesn’t even go close enough for us to see them from the train. I asked Daddah last evening before I went to sleep." "Well," said Mary Jane, not in the least disturbed by her sister’s doubt, "you just raise your window curtain and look out." Alice did as she was told and for a minute she was inclined to believe Mary Jane must be right. Water, water, water was all she could see. Water in the air; water dashing against the window; water running off the roof of the car in great streams; grayness and wetness everywhere. "Looking at the landscape, ladies?" asked Mr. Merrill as he poked his head through the curtains and saw Alice’s amazement. "Morning, Daddah!" whispered Mary Jane as she clambered over from her own berth, "it _is_ the Falls, isn’t it? I told Alice we were right in ’em." "You’ve reason enough to think so," laughed Mr. Merrill, "but as a matter of fact, you’re not quite right. The ’Falls’ which you see is rain—common everyday rain." "I’d never call _that_ common everyday rain," said Alice as an extra hard beating of rain actually made her afraid the window pane wouldn’t be enough to keep the water out of the car, "we never have rain like that at home." "They don’t have it like that often, anywhere," said Mrs. Merrill arriving from the dressing room, "and I hate to invite more gloom, but do you happen to recall that this party decided they wouldn’t ’bother’ with umbrellas?" "What ever’ll we do?" exclaimed Mary Jane with a gasp of horror. "Swim, like as not," said Mr. Merrill comfortingly. "We might as well, because it’s Sunday you know and no store open to buy umbrellas." "Isn’t it _lovely_!" sighed Mary Jane in a voice of perfect content. "_Lovely!_" exclaimed Mrs. Merrill. "_How_ lovely?" asked Alice. "And she thinks it’s ’lovely’!" mimicked Mr. Merrill. "Well, it is," insisted Mary Jane. "When things look perfectly awful and you’re sure they’re all wrong, then we always think of something to do different and we have a beautiful time—we always do." As though to prove her right, at that very minute the porter came along the aisle to Mr. Merrill and said, "There’s a taxi man outside at the steps, sir, and he says if you want a cab sir, he can back right up to the steps and the ladies won’t even get damp." "Well, if there is any man living who thinks people won’t get ’damp’ this morning," said Mr. Merrill laughingly, "I’ll engage him on the spot. As a matter of fact though, porter," he added, "the ladies aren’t ready yet. Could your man come back in half an hour?"