A Voyage to India
Young girl looking out the window at the rain
Spanish sailors in a storm
March
March
Horse and buggy in a snowstorm
Horse and buggy in a snowstorm
Coronation Day
During the procession to the Abbey the weather was fine, and the sight a brilliant one; but, soon after one o'clock, a very heavy rain descended; the wind, too, blew with great violence, and occasioned rattling and tearing among the canvas canopies of the newly erected stands. It ceased for a short time, between two and three, when it broke out afresh, and was particularly lively when the ceremony was over, at half-past three. It quite spoilt the return procession, some of the carriages driving straight away, and those that fell into `rank` had their windows up. The general public were in sorry plight, as we see in the accompanying illustration—
Man coming to the door in a snowstorm
Man coming to the door in a snowstorm
Young Lady in the storm
Young Lady in the storm
Outside the pit entrance
Nowhere is caste more noticeable than in a London audience. A little board fence divides the ground-floor of a theatre into orchestra stalls and a pit. It would cost you ten shillings less and your social position to sit on the wrong side of this fence. It does not follow that sitting on the right side of it assures your position. But it does give you an uninterrupted view of the stage. No hats are worn, and that alone makes it worth extra charge. There is, in most of the theatres, room for your knees, and in some, additional room for the man who goes out between the acts, and people who arrive after the curtain is up. A London audience is brilliant. Everyone is in evening dress, and the audience is often more entertaining than the play. This is especially true on a first night. At such times the pit is watched most anxiously by the management, as the success of the piece generally depends on their verdict. It has often occurred to me, when I have seen them on a stormy night forming a line on the pavement outside the pit entrance, taking it all seriously enough to stand there for hours before the doors were opened, that by letting them inside the management might improve their spirits, and they in their turn might be more gentle.
He was crying lustily when my husband drew him out
I have said that Flies Low sat in our second boat, with my little son in his arms. The baby had grown restless, and Flies Low had loosened the babe’s wrappings to give freedom of his limbs. A sudden billow rocked the boat, throwing Flies Low against the side and tumbling my little son out of his arms into the water. His loosened wrappings, by some good luck, made my baby buoyant, so that he floated. He was crying lustily when my husband drew him out; but he was not strangling, and under his wraps he was not even wet. “I could not help it,” said Flies Low afterwards. “The boat seemed to turn over, and the baby fell out of my arms.” We knew this was true and said nothing more of it.
Tragic Moments
The first stormy night in the cottage you have rented for the summer.
Girl standing under a tree in the rain
Girl standing under a tree in the rain
With a head shelter and a sleeping bag he can keep dry and warm
Boy lying in a sleeping bag in the rain, without a tent.
A heavy wind blew the snow in our faces, nearly blinding us
“We had a hard time,” he said. “Perhaps the gods, for some cause, were angry with us. We had gone five days; evening came and it began to rain. We were on the prairie, and our young men sat all night with their saddles and saddle skins over their heads to keep off the rain. “In the morning, the rain turned to snow. A heavy wind blew the snow in our faces, nearly blinding us.
Happy little boy in the rain