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For three days and three nights it had done nothing but rain… The sky had been washed away, the sea had vanished into the dense Scotch mist, the land had turned into a grey and green saturated sponge, and the hills were slipping down in sheets of horrible, slithery mud and stones, onto the lower ground.

Of course it had rained on most days of the year so far, but not usually with quite so much dogged determination - and this was supposed to be the height of summer, after all… Algy knew that there was no point looking for somewhere dry to perch, as there was not a dry spot left in the world, so far as he could see. So he plonked himself down disconsolately on the sodden grass, and watched as the puddles grew bigger and bigger and bigger…