But if all of us who wished to go there were suddenly whisked away on a cyclone of our own, it would surely become decidedly too crowded.

This white scuda flying scud of frozen waterwas singularly like the scud that is blown from the crest of the waves by a cyclone in the China Seas.

The cyclone on its path of death That rises in an hour, The fierce tornadoes' wildest breath, But faintly show thy power.