We _thought_ it had something to do with a lack of moisture in the air;
and now, along comes Monsieur PROU, another philosopher, and merely says
what we had thought. He declares that there was so much ice last winter
(come now, gentlemen of the Ice Companies, what have you to say to
that?) it couldn't melt in time to evaporate in time to supply moisture
in time for the necessary showers. (Somehow, there's an eternity of
"time" in that sentence; but _n'importe: allons!_) We think PROU has
proved his case. And, although we can't quite sympathise with his
suggestion that detachments of sappers and miners be employed in the
spring-time, in Arctic (and doubtless also Antarctic) regions, in
blowing up icebergs and otherwise facilitating the operations of old
Sol, we give the ingenious Frenchman credit for at least as much
philosophic acumen as we ourselves possess: and Heaven only knows how
superb a compliment we thus convey!
Couldn't our friend Capt. HALL be requested to watch the Pole a little
next winter, and look into this idea of ours and PROU'S?
* * * * *
[Illustration: CIRCUMSTANCES WILL COMPEL THE STATELIEST OF MEN TO STOOP,
SOMETIMES. GETTING A LIGHT FROM THE STUMP OF A NEWSBOY'S CIGAR IS ONE OF
THEM.]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A SCENE FROM OLD NICK-OLOS NICK-OLBY.