“Into each life some rain must fall.”
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Bert: Rain, rain, rain. I’m sick of all this rain. It’s horrible being stuck inside a house in the city. Why can’t we go home to the farm? What if all my tennis balls float away? I can’t bear it. I has the Depression.
Harry: I’ll ask Mum. Maybe it’s not raining any more. Maybe we can go home.
Harry: Can we go yet? Can we go home? Can we? Can we? Is it still raining? My brother needs his farm.
Me: Maybe, but there’s more raining coming. We might have to go home and get a few things, and then come back to the city again so we don’t get flooded in.