“Good gracious! Dismal,” she exclaimed. “What are you doing in here with all the windows shut on such a perfect day as this? That horrid little smoky stove is enough to suffocate you.”

“Please shut the door behind you at once, Valiant,” said Mrs. Dismal fretfully. “The draft is simply cruel and this dreadful east wind always increases my rheumatism unendurably.”

“East wind!” said Mrs. Valiant with another snort. “My dear Dismal, the air is as balmy as on a midsummer day, and what little breeze there is is coming directly from the south.”

“My weathercock never lies,” replied Mrs. Dismal firmly, “and when I looked at it this morning the wind was in the east. Besides, I feel it all over me, in every bone and joint of my body, and do not need even the confirmation of the weathercock.”

“At least,” urged Mrs. Valiant, “let me open the south window; and do, my dear Dismal, allow yourself to be persuaded to lay aside that dreadful shawl and to put on something cooler and prettier, and come out with me for a little while, for,” added she in a mysterious tone, “the most delightful and unexpected thing has happened, and I have come along on purpose to take you to my cottage so that you can share in the pleasure.”

Mrs. Dismal, however, refused to be either curious or interested. Instead, she poked the fire, causing a thick spiral of choking smoke to billow out into the room, and said with a shiver: “Please leave that window alone, Valiant. Even if it were the warmest of days I would not venture out of the cottage today, for my almanac tells me that it is a black day—a day of gloom and darkness and danger—and harm would most certainly befall me if I ventured outside. I have great faith in my almanac and never disregard its warnings.”

“What almanac is that?” cried Mrs. Valiant, walking up to the wall on which was pinned a large and hideous monstrosity. “Why, Dismal! Don’t tell me you’ve gone in for astrology! This is printed by a well-known firm of swindling frauds, who live by exploiting the fears of other people. It’s pure nonsense!”

Mrs. Dismal looked much affronted and answered tartly: “I have never known my valuable almanac to be mistaken. When it says that woe and calamity are approaching, woe and calamity of some sort always do follow, and I shall not be foolish enough to disregard its warnings today, but shall remain indoors.”

“I wish you would let me tear the horrid thing off the wall and throw it on the fire,” exclaimed Mrs. Valiant in exasperation, “and let me put up one of the red-letter calendars which I use myself. For today mine says, ‘This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will be glad and rejoice in it.’”

“Nothing will induce me to discard my valuable almanac,” said poor Mrs. Dismal. “Neither shall I venture to set foot outside the cottage today. As sure as my name is Dismal Forebodings, calamity is near.”