farm, in the woods, in the garden, at out-door games, and on the
roads, is that fine weather brings fine weather, and wet weather
brings wet weather, in other words, it never rains but it pours, in an
extended sense.

My impression is that when the ground is dry there is a minimum of
capillary attraction between it and the clouds, and though the sky may
look threatening they do not easily break into rain. On the other
hand, when the ground is thoroughly wet and evaporation is active,
capillary attraction tends to unite earth and clouds, and rain
results. We all know that hill-tops receive showers which frequently
pass over the vales without falling, probably because of the greater
proximity of the hills. In a long drought a violent thunderstorm,
which soaks the ground, will often be followed by a complete change of
weather, as the result of contact established between the earth and
the clouds.

The best description I know of a really hot and cloudless day is that
by Coleridge in the _Ancient Mariner_:

"The sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he;
And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea."

The succession of monosyllables expresses most forcibly the monotony
of a day of blazing sunshine, unruffled by a cloud; and the absence of
incident illustrates the remorseless march of the dominant sun across
the heavens.