Mogey and Smush were hurrying home down the old cart track one evening when they came across a bark peddler toting his little cart full of birch beer and canoe sidings.
"You'd better get inside quickly, if you can," Smush said. "There's a storm about to start any minute."
The peddler paused and sniffed the air. "Oi!" he said. "You two! Rain's coming. Ye'd better take shelter."
"I just said that," Smush said.
"Wassat?" The peddler replied, cocking his ear toward Mogey and Smush.
"We know it's about to rain," Mogey said loudly. "We saw it on the weather channel not fifteen minutes ago." The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a heavy rain began to fall as if someone had turned on the faucet. The peddler looked about sagely, and leaned forward as if to tell Mogey and Smush a great and terrible secret.
"Boys," he said, "a storm's a'brewin. I can feel it in my bones."
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