WHEN IT RAINS.
Suppose for a moment—and note, that when a man sayssuppose, he is perfectly sure of his ground, and woe be to any who contradicts him—suppose, then, for one moment, that man is really a rational animal.
The bizarre originality of being rational, which constitutes thelast termof the definition, does not prejudice the wisely general character of thefirst term, which is this: Man is an animal.
Now, I ask, what use is reason to a man, if it does not make him take an umbrella when it rains? It is all very well for you to think yourself superior to all other created beasts,—to be proud of your learning, your science, your experience, your laws, your noble blood, or your ample income;—if you find yourself out in the rain without anumbrella, you will always be the most contemptible figure in creation.
Let us be just;—humanity is not lovely when seen through the falling drops of rain, by the cold, dull light of a sunless day, under a dull, leaden, low, foggy sky, resting like a cover on the circle of the horizon. All men wear faces of portentous length; one can see that they bear an undying grudge against meteorologic science, on account of that phenomenon of aqueous infiltration which is so deadly to new hats and old boots. They go their ways dripping along the rows of houses, under the deluges from the water-pipes, picking their way between the puddles, with countenances cloudier than the skies, muttering the devil’s litanies between their teeth with a muffled murmur like the gurgling of a boiling saucepan. At every corner, such accidents as making too close an acquaintance with the ribs of an umbrella coming the other way, getting splashed with liquid mud by a passing horse, or spoiling the freshness of a new pair of trousers by means of an overflowing gutter, provoke a glance which, if looks could kill, would be downright murder,—a contraction of the facial muscles which recalls the grin of the ancestral ape in a bad temper, and an explosion ofsotto voceejaculations, expressing a pious desire to see one’s neighbours in general attached to the muzzle of a breech-loading mitrailleuse in full activity.
... Now, to orthodox minds there cannot be the slightest doubt on the subject; rain is by no means a fitting and necessary part of the order of things; it is rather of the nature of a judgment. The Scriptures make no mention of bad weather before the time of the Flood. Rain-water was in nowise needed for the development of germs or the ripening of the harvest. Adam had been condemned to water the earth with the sweat of his brow, and this irrigation would have been quite sufficient to raise maize and beans over the whole surface of the globe....
From the preceding considerations it seems to me that one can draw two principal conclusions:—
1. That rain is not a necessity of Nature, but rather what is commonly called a judgment of Providence.
2. That human beings, when it rains, are exceedingly ugly.
Take these two conclusions and put them aside; for we may draw from them later on the most curious and unexpected consequences....
P. C. Ferrigni.
P. C. Ferrigni.
P. C. Ferrigni.
P. C. Ferrigni.