Monday, Mar. 28, 1927
Omen
Rain, rain, go away,
Come again some other day.
No President, meteorologically wise, would ever murmur these words to the heavens. For it is rain that keeps a President and his party in power; drought forebodes political upheaval.
Such was the phenomenon brought to light by one Robert Marshall, tree experimenter of Missoula, Mont. In the Nation, he wrote: observed a peculiar biological-political relationship in the annual rings of the trees. Three marked periods of retarded growth were manifest, just prior to 1828, 1884 and 1912. These were the years of major catastrophes for Republicans. In 1828, log-cabin-and-hard-cider Andrew Jackson smote them down; in 1884, rotund-reformer Grover Cleveland, in 1912, scholar Woodrow Wilson. ... It struck me that possibly the same lack of rainfall which caused the trees to wane also caused the party in power to wane. Several economists have recognized the correlation between rainfall and economic cycles. It is just one step further to carry the economic results to their political conclusion."
Then Mr. Marshall proceeded to list rainfalls from 1825 to 1924 to show that, with only two exceptions, a drier-than-normal four years was followed by the defeat of the party in power; with only one exception, a wetter-than-normal four years heralded continuance in power.
The inference to be drawn from such strange researches is, that if President Coolidge is still in doubt about 1928, he should consult no crystal balls, no mystics, no political prophets, no embattled farmers--but he should go straight to the office of Professor Charles F. Marvin, chief of the U. S. Weather Bureau, who is the last word on rain, snow, sleet, hurricane, cloudburst, earthquake.-- Mr. Marvin could tell the President that the rainfall for 1925 was 13% less than normal and 1926 was 1% drier than normal. Unless the rain gods decree a pretty pattering on the window panes in 1927 and 1928, meteorologists must predict defeat for Republicans.
To tinker with the calendar is Professor Marvin's dearest hobby. He would like to supplant the Gregorian calendar with one of his own, which has 13 months to the year, four weeks to the month, and one extra day each year which would be a super-holiday. Such a calendar, said the able professor, would run until the year 17600 A. D. with no ill effects, except to deprive women of Leap Years, which will come only once each 600 years.