Together by Norman Douglas — Read

It rains.

It has rained ever since our arrival in this green Alpine village; rained not heavily but with a grim Scotch persistence -- the kind of drizzle that will tempt some old Aberdonian, sitting unconcernedly in soaking grass by the wayside, to look up and remark: "The roads is something saft. " Are we going to have a month of _Landregen_, as they call it? No matter. Anything for fresh air; anything to escape from the pitiless blaze of the South, and from those stifling nights when your bedroom grows into a furnace, its walls exuding inwardly all the fiery beams they have sucked up during the endless hours of noon. Let it rain!