Kansu people as a rule do not talk about the weather. It is not here the obtrusive thing we are accustomed to in England. Cold but sunny winters, rather dusky springs, summers that are warm but not over hot, plentifully spiced by thunderstorms, and autumns most glorious, both cool and clear and dewy, such a climate leaves little to grumble about surely. But this year things have somehow seemed awry. A long hot spell in the carly summer that ruined some of the crops, set our people thinking and planning for some means to counteract the influences at work.
First the streets were bedecked with yellow streamers with stirring mottoes on them, such as "Bountifully the rain is falling!" Or "The gracious rain falls far and wide." Words that seemed to mock the brassy heavens and the cracked soil in the fields. It produced no result however, so something more had to be done. To the west of the city, at about the distance of 13 miles, stands a temple near the summit of a high mountain, and springs of clear cold water rise close by it.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.