- ting you off—No, I really don't think I ever
saw the Loop road in worse condition—"
"It's the long rainy spell we ought to have had in May," I informed her. "The seasons are changing so, though, nowadays that nobody can keep up with them."
"Yes, Felix was saying only to-day that we seem no longer to have any real spring. We simply go straight from winter into summer."
"I was endeavoring to persuade her," Kennaston amended, "that it was foolish to go away as long as it stays cool as it is."
"Oh, yes, now!" my wife conceded. "But the paper says we are in for a long heat period about the fifteenth. For my part, I think July is always our worst month."
"It is just that you feel the heat so much more during the first warm days," I suggested.
"Oh, no!" my wife said, earnestly; "the nights are cool in August, and you can stand the days. Of course, there are apt to be a few mosquitoes in September, but not many if you are careful about standing water—"
"The drain-pipe to the gutter around our
