She’d drop in at the weather-factory ’long in the afternoon and pretend to be terrible interested in the goings on there.

“I don’t see how you two gentlemen can tell whether it’s going to rain or not.  I think you are the most wonderful men!  Do tell me, Mr. Crocker, will it be good weather to-morrer?  I wanted to take a little walk up to the village about four o’clock if it was.”

And then Beriah’d swell out like a puffing pig and put on airs and look out of the winder, and crow: 

“Yes’m, I jedge that we’ll have a southerly breeze in the morning with some fog, but nothing to last, nothing to last.  The afternoon, I cal’late, ’ll be fair.  I—­I—­that is to say, I was figgering on goin’ to the village myself to-morrer.”

Then Emma would pump up a blush, and smile, and purr that she was so glad, ’cause then she’d have comp’ny.  And Eben would glower at Beriah and Beriah’d grin sort of superior-like, and the mutual barometer, so’s to speak, would fall about a foot during the next hour.  The brotherly business between the two prophets was coming to an end fast, and all on account of Mrs. Kelly.

She played ’em even for almost a month; didn’t show no preference one way or the other.  First ’twas Eben that seemed to be eating up to wind’ard, and then Beriah’d catch a puff and gain for a spell.  Cap’n Jonadab and me was uneasy, for we was afraid the Weather Bureau would suffer ’fore the thing was done with; but Peter was away, and we didn’t like to interfere till he come home.

And then, all at once, Emma seemed to make up her mind, and ’twas all Eben from that time on.  The fact is, the widder had learned, somehow or ’nother, that he had the most money of the two.  Beriah didn’t give up; he stuck to it like a good one, but he was falling behind and he knew it.  As for Eben, he couldn’t help showing a little joyful pity, so’s to speak, for his partner, and the atmosphere in that rain lab’ratory got so frigid that I didn’t know but we’d have to put up a stove.  The two wizards was hardly on speaking terms.

The last of August come and the “Old Home House” was going to close up on the day after Labor Day.  Peter was down again, and so was Ebenezer and Belle, and there was to be high jinks to celebrate the season’s wind-up.  There was to be a grand excursion and clambake at Setuckit Beach and all hands was going—­four catboats full.

Of course, the weather must be good or it’s no joy job taking females to Setuckit in a catboat.  The night before the big day, Peter came out to the Weather Bureau and Jonadab and me dropped in likewise.  Beriah was there all alone; Eben was out walking with Emma.

“Well, Jeremiah,” says Brown, chipper as a mack’rel gull on a spar-buoy, “what’s the outlook for to-morrer?  The Gov’ment sharp says there’s a big storm on the way up from Florida.  Is he right, or only an ‘also ran,’ as usual?”