"Whatever the weather may be," says he-- "Whatever the weather may be, Its the songs ye sing, an' the smiles ye wear That's a-makin' the sunshine everywhere; An' the world of gloom is a world of glee, Wid the bird in the bush, an' the bud in the tree, Whatever the weather may be," says he-- "Whatever the weather may be!" "Whatever the weather may be," says he-- "Whatever the weather may be, Ye can bring the spring, wid its green an' gold, An' the grass in the grove where the snow lies cold, An' ye'll warm your back, wid a smiling face, As ye sit at your heart like an owld fireplace, Whatever the weather may be," says he, "Whatever the weather may be!" Where the Roads Are Engaged in Forking I am writing this at an imitation hotel where the roads fork. I will call it the Fifth Avenue Hotel because the hotel at a railroad junction is generally called the Fifth Avenue, or the Gem City House, or the Palace Hotel. I stopped at an inn some years since called the Palace, and I can truly say that if it had ever been a palace it was very much run down when I visited it. Just as the fond parent of a white-eyed, two-legged freak of nature loves to name his mentally-diluted son Napoleon, and for the same reason that a prominent horse owner in Illinois last year socked my name on a tall, buckskin-colored colt that did not resemble me, intellectually or physically, a colt that did not know enough to go around a barbed-wire fence, but sought to shift himself through it into an untimely grave, so this man has named his sway-backed wigwam the Fifth Avenue Hotel. It is different from the Fifth Avenue in many ways. In the first place there is not so much travel and business in its neighborhood. As I said before, this is where two railroads fork. In fact that is the leading industry here. The growth of the town is naturally slow, but it is a healthy growth. There is nothing in the nature of dangerous or wild-cat speculation in the advancement of this place, and while there has been no noticeable or rapid advance in the principal business, there has been no falling off at all and these roads are forking as much to-day as they did before the war, while the same three men who were present for the first glad moment are still here to witness the operation. Sometimes a train is derailed, as the papers call it, and two or three people have to remain over as we did all night. It is at such a time that the Fifth Avenue Hotel is the scene of great excitement. A large codfish, with a broad and sunny smile and his bosom full of rock salt, is tied in the creek to freshen and fit himself for the responsible position of floor manager of the codfish ball.