One of the heaviest rainfalls yet recorded in Great Britain was about 2-1/4 inches in forty minutes at Lednathie, Forfarshire, in 1887. Now 1 inch deep of rain means 100 tons on an imperial acre; so the amount of water falling on a field during that short time is simply startling. The heaviest fall for one day was at Ben Nevis Observatory, being fully 7-1/4 inches in 1890. In other parts of the world this is far exceeded. In one day at Brownsville, Texas, nearly 13 inches fell in 1886. On the Khasi hills, India, 30 inches on each of five successive days were registered. At Gibraltar, 33 inches were recorded in twenty-six hours. The heaviest rainfalls of the globe are occasioned by the winds that have swept over the most extensive ocean-areas in the tropics. On the summer winds the rainfall of India mainly depends; when this fails, there is most distressing drought. Reservoirs are being erected to meet emergencies. From Dr. Buchan's statistics it is found that the annual rainfall at Mahabaleshwar is 263 inches; at Sandoway 214; and at Cherra-pungi 472 inches, the largest known rainfall anywhere on the globe. Over a large part of the Highlands of Scotland more than 80 inches fall annually, while in some of the best agricultural districts there it does not exceed 30 inches. Of all meteorological phenomena, rainfall is the most variable and uncertain. Symons gives as tentative results from twenty years' observations in London--(1) In winter, the nights are wetter than the days; (2) in spring and autumn, there is not much difference; (3) in summer, nearly half as much again by day as by night. The wearisomeness of statistics may be here relieved by a short consideration of the _splash_ of a drop of rain. Watching the drop-splashes on a rainy day in the outskirts of the city, when unable to get out, I brought to my recollection the marvellous series of experiments made by Professor A. M. Worthington in connection with these phenomena. Of course, I could not see to proper advantage the formation of the splashes, as the heavy raindrops fell into these tiny lakes on the quiet road. There is not the effect of the huge thunder-drops in a stream or pool. The building up of the bubbles is not here perfect, for the domes fail to close, nor are the emergent columns visible to the naked eye. It is a pity; for R. L. Stevenson once wrote of them in his delightful "Inland Voyage," when he canoed in the Belgian canals, as thrown up by the rain into "an infinity of little crystal fountains." Beautiful is this effect if one is under shelter, every dome seeming quite different in contour and individuality from all the rest. But terrible is it when out fishing on Loch Earn, even with the good-humoured old Admiral, when the heavy thunder-drops splash up the crystal water, and one gets soaked to the skin, sportsman-like despising an umbrella.